Mr. Quest, sitting in state as Clerk to the Magistrates assembled in
Quarter Sessions at the Court House, Boisingham, little guessed that
the sword at whose shadow he had trembled all these years was even now
falling on his head. Still less did he dream that the hand to cut the
thread which held it was that of the stupid bumpkin whose warning he
had despised.
CHAPTER XXXV
THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES
At last the weary journey was over, and to George's intense relief he
found himself upon the platform at Boisingham. He was a pretty tough
subject, but he felt that a very little more of the company of the
fair Edithia would be too much for him. As it happened, the station-
master was a particular friend of his, and the astonishment of that
worthy when he saw the respectable George in such company could
scarcely be expressed in words.
"Why boar! Well I never! Is she a furriner?" he ejaculated in
astonishment.
"If you mean me," said Edithia, who was by now in fine bellicose
condition, "I'm no more foreign than you are. Shut up, can't you?
or----" and she took a step towards the stout station-master. He
retreated precipitately, caught his heel against the threshold of the
booking office and vanished backwards with a crash.
Pages:
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389