Eliza’s Daughter Read Free

from the metre, it is not from the order of words, but from the matter itself, that the essential difference must arise,’ the man called Bill was proclaiming in a loud assured tone. Indeed, he trumpeted through his large nose.
    His friend laughed. ‘I put my hat upon my head, And walked into the Strand, And there I met another man, Whose hat was in his hand!’ he suggested.
    â€˜Precisely so! Or, on the other hand, “And thou art long and lank and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand.”’
    â€˜ Hey! Will, my dear fellow! That has it to a nicety! You singular genius – pearls flow continually from your lips! A moment, if you please, till I set that down.’
    And he pulled a notebook from his satchel and wrote vigorously.
    His friend, also laughing, observed, ‘Take care, my dear Sam! Our faithful Home Office follower is busy marking our actions from afar through his spy-glass; without the least question he now suspects you of making observations about coastal defences, so as to facilitate a French invasion.’
    â€˜Oh, devil take the silly fellow. Pay no heed to him.—But, listen, Bill, now here is a point that has been troubling me; tell me, how in the wide world are we to get the ship home again? With all the crew perished and gone? This, I must confess, has me quite in a puzzle. What can we do? You are so much more ingenious than I at solving these practical problems.’
    Bill said: ‘I have two thoughts about that. But let us proceed on our walk, or the day will be gone. Besides, my mind always operates more cannily when I am in physical motion.’
    They left the bridge, strolling, and took their way westwards.
    I could not help myself; I followed them as if drawn by a powerful magnet.
    Up the steep cliff path I pursued them, and squatted nearby when they paused at the top to get their breath and admire the light on the calm blue autumnal sea. Far across the channel the mountains of Wales dangled like a gauzy frill bordering the skirts of the sky.
    â€˜Hollo!’ said Sam, noticing me. ‘It seems we have a follower.’
    â€˜A little cottage girl.’
    â€˜Are you a Home Office agent, my little maid?’
    â€˜No, please, sir. I don’t know what that is.’
    â€˜Never mind it. How old are you, child?’
    â€˜Please, sir, I don’t rightly know that either. I am an orphan.’
    â€˜No parents?’ inquired Sam.
    â€˜None, sir. I’m a bastard, do you see, from Byblow Bottom.’
    â€˜And who provides for you, then?’ asked the man called Bill, bending on me a sad, solicitous look. ‘I, like you, was orphaned when young. It is a hard fate.’
    â€˜Please, sir, a gentleman called Colonel Brandon provides, but he never comes to see me, only writes letters, not very often, telling me to be a good girl and read my prayer-book.’
    â€˜And do you read it?’ put in Sam.
    â€˜Oh, yes, sir, and a deal of other books besides.’
    â€˜Such as what? Cinderella?’
    â€˜Oh no, sir, but Cicero and Sir Roger de Coverley.’
    At that both men burst out laughing and gazed at me, I suppose, with astonishment.
    â€˜And who gives thee such reading matter, thou little prodigy?’ inquired Will.
    â€˜Dr Moultrie, sir, he teaches me, but he has the gout at present. So, please, sirs, may I come along of you?’
    â€˜But we walk too fast, my child; besides, it is not well advised that a little maid of your tender years should roam at large all over the country with two great grown men.’
    â€˜Oh, bless you, sir, I’ve always roamed; Mrs Wellcome don’t care a groat, so be as she don’t want me to feed the chicken. Please let me come, sirs; I won’t hinder or plague you, indeed I won’t.’
    They looked at one another and shrugged. ‘She will soon fall behind after all,’ said Mr Sam.
    But I knew I would not. Sometimes I joined the boys at hare-coursing. And