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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

"Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete)"

To my surprise, however, I beheld not my
servant, but your father. He was standing looking over
my shoulder at the work on which I was engaged; and
notwithstanding in the instant he resumed the cold, quiet,
smirking look that usually distinguished him, I thought
I could trace the evidence of some deep emotion which my
action had suddenly dispelled. He apologised for his
intrusion, although we were on those terms that rendered
apology unnecessary, but said he had just received my
message, and preferred coming in person to assure me how
happy he should feel to take my duty, or to render me
any other service in his power. I thought he laid unusual
emphasis on the last sentence; yet I thanked him warmly,
stating that the only service I should now exact of him
would be to take my guard, as I was compelled to be absent
nearly the whole of the following morning. He observed,
with a smile, he hoped I was not going to venture my neck
on those dangerous precipices a second time, after the
narrow escape I had had on the preceding day. As he spoke,
I thought his eye met mine with a sly yet scrutinizing
glance; and, not wishing to reply immediately to his
question, I asked him what he thought of the work with
which I was endeavouring to beguile an idle hour.


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