The Mask Company miserable rooms, and clambered up staircase after staircase, till we reached the top of the house, and the mask company stumbled through a latched door into the garret. After so much groping in the dark, the light dazzled me, and I thought at first that the room was empty. But at last a faint Good day from the corner near the window drew my eyes that way and there, stretched on a sort of bed, and supported by a chair at his back, lay the patient we had come to see. 125 He was a young man about twenty six years old, in the last stage of that terrible disease so fatally common in our country he was dying of consumption. There was no mistaking the flushed cheek, the painfully laborious breathing, and the incessant cough while two old crutches in the corner spoke of how long are n95 respirators good for in dusty conditions another affliction he was a cripple. His gaunt face lighted up with a glow of pleasure when my father came in, who seated himself at once on the end of the bed, and began to talk to him, whilst I looked round the room. There was absolutely nothing in it, except the bed on which the sick man lay, the chair that supported him, and a small three legged table. The low roof was terribly out of repair, and the window was patched with newspaper but through the glass panes that were left, in full glory streamed the sun, and in the midst of the blaze stood a pot of musk in full bloom. The soft yellow flowers looked so grand, and smelled so sweet, that I was lost in admiration, till I found the sick man s black eyes fixed on mine. You are looking at my bit of green, master he said, in a gratified tone. Do you like flowers I inquired, coming shyly up to the bed. Do I like em he exclaimed in a low voice. Ay, I love em well enough well n95 mask for enough, and he 126 looked fondly at the plant, though it s long since I saw any but these. You have not been in the country for a long time I inquired, compassionately. I felt sad to think that he had perhaps lain there for months, without a taste of fresh air or a run in the fields but I was not prepared for his answer. I never was in the country, young gentleman. I looked at my father. Yes, he said, in answer to my glance, it is quite true. William was born here. He got hurt when a boy, and has been lame ever since. For some years he has been entirely confined to the house. He was never out of town, and never saw a green field. Never out of the town confined to the house for years and what a house The tears rushed to my eyes, and I felt that angry heart ache which the sight of suffering produces in those who are too young to be insensible to it, and too ignorant of God s Providence to submit with quietness and confidence to His will. My son can hardly believe it, William. It is such a shame, I said it is horrible. I am very sorry for you. The black eyes.ne side, carried his hands in his pockets and a short stick under his arm, and whistled when any one passed him. His chief characteristic, perhaps, was the mask company the habit he had of kicking. Indoors he kicked the furniture, in the road he kicked the stones, if he lounged against a wall he kicked it he 190 kicked all animals and such human beings as he felt sure would not kick him again. It should be said here that he had once announced his intention of turning steady, and settling, and getting wed. The object of his choice was the prettiest girl in the village, and was as good as she was pretty. To say the truth, the time had been when Bessy had not felt the mask company unkindly towards the yellow haired lad but his conduct had long put a gulf between them, which only the conceit of a scamp would have attempted to pass. However, he flattered himself that he knew what how to wear face mask the lasses meant when they said no and on the strength of this knowledge he presumed far enough to elicit a rebuff so hearty and unmistakable that for a week he was the laughing stock of the village. There was no mistake this time as to what no meant his admiration turned to a hatred almost as intense, and he went faster to the bad than ever. It was Bessy s little brother who sat by him on the stile Beauty Bill, as he was called, from the large share he possessed of the family good looks. The lad was one of those people who seem born to be favourites. He was handsome, and merry, and intelligent and, being well brought up, was well conducted the mask company and amiable the pride and pet of the village. Why did Mother Muggins of the shop let 191 the goody side of her scales of justice drop the lower by one lollipop for Bill than for any other lad, and exempt him by unwonted smiles from her general anathema on the urchin race There were other honest boys in the n95 respirator use parish, who paid for their treacle sticks in sterling copper of the realm The very roughs of the village were proud of him, and would have showed their good nature in ways little to face mask meaning medical his benefit had not his father kept a somewhat severe watch upon his habits and conduct. Indeed, good parents and a strict home counterbalanced the evils of popularity with Beauty Bill, and, on the whole, he was little spoilt, and well deserved the favour he met with. It was under cover of friendly patronage that his companion was now detaining him but, all the circumstances considered, Bill felt more suspicious than gratified, and wished Bully Tom anywhere but where he was. The man threw out one leg before him like the pendulum of a clock. Night school s opened, eh he inquired the mask company and back swung the pendulum against Bill s shins. Yes and the boy screwed his legs on one side. You don t go, do you Yes, I do, said Bill, trying not to feel ashamed of the fact, Father.
the children of the neighborhood were fair. Not fair as so many North country children are, with locks of differing, but equally brilliant, shades of gold, auburn, red, and bronze but white headed, and often white faced, with white lashed inexpressive eyes, as if they had been bleaching through several generations. Now, when the dark bright eyes of the little the mask company Jan first came to be of tender interest with Mrs. Lake, she fully hoped, and constantly prophesied, that he would be as black as a rook a style of complexion to which she gave a distinct preference, though the miller was fair by nature as well as white by trade. Jan s eyes seemed conclusive. Black as slans they be, said his foster mother. And slans meant sloe berries where Mrs. Lake was born. An old local saying had something perhaps to do with her views Lang and lazy, Black and proud Vair and voolish, Little and loud. Fair and foolish youngsters certainly abounded in the neighborhood to an extent which justified a wish for a change. As to pride, meek Mrs. Lake was far from regarding it as a failing in those who had any thing to be proud of, such as black hair and a possible connection with the gentry. And fate having denied to her any chance of being proud or aggressive on her own account, she derived a curious sort of second hand satisfaction from seeing these qualities in those who belonged to her. It did to some extent console her for the miller s roughness to herself, to hear him rating George. And she got a sort of reflected dignity out of being able to say, My maester s a man as will have his way. But her hopes were not realized. That yellow into which the beefsteak stage of Jan s infant complexion had faded was not the mask company destined to deepen into gipsy hues. It gave place to the tints of the China rose, and all the 3m respirator home depot wind and sunshine on the downs could not tan, though they sometimes burnt, his cheeks. The hair on his little head became more abundant, but it kept its golden hue. His eyes remained dark, a curious mixture for as to hair and complexion he was irredeemably fair. The mill had at least one vair and voolish inmate, by common account, though by his own given in confidence to intimate friends he was not zuch a vool as he looked. This was George Sannel, the miller s man. Master Lake had had a second hand in to help on that stormy night when Jan made his first appearance at the mill but as a rule he only kept one man, whom he hired for a year at a time, at the mop or hiring fair held yearly in the next town. George, or Gearge as he was commonly called, had been more than two years in the windmill, and was looked upon in all respects as one of the family. He slept on a truckle bed in the round house, which, though of average size, would not permit him to s.onous sweeps of the great plains, whose aspect is more changeable than one might think, but studies on the various floors of the mill, and in the roundhouse, where old meal bins and swollen sacks looked picturesque in the dim light falling from above, in which also the circular stones, the shaft, and the very hoppers, became effective subjects for the Cumberland lead pencils. Towards the end of the summer following the fever, Mrs. Lake failed rapidly. She sat out of doors most of the day, the miller moving her chair from one side to another of the mill to get the shade. Master Swift brought her big nosegays from his garden, at which she would smell for hours, as if the scent soothed her. She spoke very little, but she watched the sky constantly. One evening there was a gorgeous sunset. In all its splendor, with medical face masks with designs a countless multitude of little clouds about it bright with its light, the glory of the sun seemed little less than that of the Lord Himself, coming with ten thousand of His saints, and the poor woman gazed as if her withered, wistful eyes could see her children among the radiant host. I do think the Lord be the mask company coming to night, Master Swift, she said. And He ll bring them with Him. She gazed on after all the glory had faded, and lingered till it grew dark, and the schoolmaster had gone home. It was not till her dress was quite wet with dew that Jan insisted upon her going indoors. They were coming round the mill in the dusk, when a cry broke from Mrs. Lake s lips which was only an echo of a louder one from Jan. A woman creeping round the mill in the opposite direction had just craned her neck forward so that Jan and his foster mother saw her face for an instant before it disappeared. Why Jan was so terrified, he would have been puzzled to say, for the woman was not hideous, though she had an ugly mouth. But he was terrified, and none the less so from a conviction that she was looking intently and intentionally at him. When he got his foster mother indoors, the miller was disposed to think the affair was a fancy but, as if the shock had given a spur to her feeble senses, Mrs. Lake said in a loud clear voice, Maester, it be the woman that brought our Jan hither But when the miller ran out, no one was to be seen. CHAPTER XXX. JAN S PROSPECTS AND MASTER SWIFT S PLANS. TEA AND MILTON. NEW PARENTS. PARTING WITH RUFUS. JAN IS KIDNAPPED. This shock seemed to give a last jar to the frail state of Mrs. Lake s health, and the sleep into which she fell that night passed into a state of insensibility in which her sorely tried spirit was released without pain. It was said that the windmiller looked twice his age from trouble. But his wan appearance may have been partly due to the inroads of a lung disease, which comes to mil.en I do not see it again in my dreams. From that day I have borne a mark, a stamp of fear, do you understand Yes, for ten minutes I was a prey to terror, in such a way that ever since a constant dread has remained in my soul. Unexpected sounds chill me to the heart objects which I can ill distinguish in the evening shadows make me long to flee. I am afraid at night. No I would not have owned such a thing before reaching my present age. But now I may tell everything. One may fear imaginary dangers at eighty two years old. But before actual danger I have never turned back, mesdames. That affair so upset my mind, filled me with such a deep, mysterious unrest that I never could tell it. I kept it in that inmost part, that corner where we conceal our sad, our shameful secrets, all the weaknesses of our life which cannot be confessed. I will tell you that strange happening just as it took place, with no attempt to explain it. Unless I went mad for one short hour it must be explainable, though. Yet I was not mad, and I will prove it to you. Imagine what you will. Here are the simple facts It was in 1827, in July. I was quartered with my regiment in Rouen. One day, as I was strolling on the quay, I came across a man I believed I recognized, though I could not place him with certainty. I instinctively went more slowly, ready to pause. The stranger saw my impulse, looked at me, and fell into my arms. It was a friend of my younger days, of whom I had been very fond. He seemed to have become half a century older in the five years since I had seen him. His hair was white, and he stooped in his walk, as if he were exhausted. He understood my amazement and told me the story of his life. A terrible event had broken him down. He had fallen madly in love with a young girl the mask company and married her in a kind of dreamlike ecstasy. After a year of unalloyed bliss and unexhausted passion, she had died suddenly of heart disease, no doubt killed by love itself. He had left the country on the very day of her funeral, and had come to live in his hotel at Rouen. He remained there, solitary and desperate, grief slowly mining him, so wretched that he constantly thought of suicide. As I thus came across you again, he said, I shall ask a great favor of you. I want you to go to my ch acirc teau and get some papers I urgently need. They are in the writing desk of my room, of our room. I cannot send a servant or a lawyer, as the errand must be kept private. I want absolute the mask company silence. I shall give you the key of the room, which I locked carefully myself before leaving, and the key to the writing desk. I shall also give you a note for the gardener, who will let you in. Come to breakfast with me to morrow, and we ll talk the matter over. I promised to render him.
The Mask Company ged to himself the affection with which he came to regard this ugly and despicable animal. The greater part of his regard for it he believed to be due to its connection with his tutor, and the rest he set down to the score of his own humanity, and took credit to himself accordingly whereas in truth Monsieur Crapaud was of incalculable service to his master, who would lie and chatter to him for hours, and almost forget his present discomfort in recalling past happiness, the mask company as he described the chateau, the gardens, the burly tutor, and beautiful Madame, or laughed over his childish remembrances of the toad s teeth in Claude Mignon s pocket whilst Monsieur Crapaud sat well bred and silent, with a world of comprehension in his fiery eyes. Whoever thinks this puerile must remember that my hero was a Frenchman, and a young Frenchman, with a prescriptive right to chatter for chattering s sake, and also that he had not a very highly cultivated mind of his own to converse with, even if the most highly cultivated intellect is ever a 163 reliable resource against the terrors of solitary confinement. Foolish or wise, however, Monsieur the Viscount s attachment strengthened daily and one day something happened which showed his pet in a new light, and afforded him fresh amusement. The prison was much infested with certain large black spiders, which crawled about the floor and walls and, as Monsieur the Viscount was lying on his pallet, he saw one of these scramble up and over the stone on which sat Monsieur Crapaud. That good gentleman, whose eyes, till then, had been fixed as usual on his master, now turned his attention to the intruder. The spider, as if conscious of danger, had suddenly stopped still. Monsieur Crapaud gazed at it intently with his beautiful eyes, and bent himself slightly forward. So they remained for some seconds, then the spider turned round, and began suddenly to scramble away. At this instant Monsieur the Viscount saw his friend s eyes gleam with an intenser fire, his head was jerked forwards it almost seemed as if something had been projected from his mouth, and drawn back again with the rapidity of lightning. Then Monsieur Crapaud resumed his position, drew in his head, and gazed mildly and sedately before him but the spider was nowhere to be seen. Monsieur the Viscount burst into a loud laugh. 164 Eh, well Monsieur, said he, but this is not well bred on your part. Who gave you leave to eat my spiders and to bolt them in such an unmannerly way, moreover. In spite of this reproof Monsieur Crapaud looked in no way ashamed of himself, and I regret disposable face mask manufacturer in gujarat to state that henceforward with the partial humaneness of mankind in general , Monsieur the Viscount amused himself by catching the insects which were only too plen.one legged donkey, 210 as he called it, in the air, and added, Bartram you lazy lout will you get up and take an interest in my humble efforts for the good of my fellow creatures Thus adjured, Mr. Bartram sat up with a jerk which threw his book on to his boots, and his hat after it, and looked at Bill. Now Bill and the gardener had both been grinning, as they always did at Master Arthur s funny speeches, but when Bill found the clever gentleman looking at him, he straightened his face very quickly. The gentleman was not at all like his friend nothing near so handsome, Bill reported at home , and he had such a large prominent forehead that he looked as if he were bald. When he sat up, he suddenly screwed up his eyes in a very peculiar way, pulled out a double gold eye glass, fixed it on his nose, and stared through it for a second after which his eyes unexpectedly opened to their full extent they were not small ones what is a full face respirator , and took a sharp survey of Bill over the top of his spectacles and this ended, he lay back on his elbow without speaking. Bill then and there the mask company decided that Mr. 3m 6297pa1 a Bartram was very proud, rather mad, and the most disagreeable gentleman he ever saw and he felt sure could see as well as he Bill could, and only wore spectacles out of a peculiar kind of pride and vain glory which he could not exactly specify. Master 211 Arthur seemed to think, at any rate, that he was not very civil, and began at once to talk to the boy himself. Why were you not at school last time, Willie couldn t your mother spare you Yes, Sir. Then why didn t you come said Master Arthur, in evident astonishment. Poor Bill He stammered as he had stammered before the doctor, and finally gasped Please, Sir, I was scared. Scared What of Ghosts, murmured Bill in a very ghostly whisper. Mr. Bartram raised himself a little. Master Arthur seemed confounded. Why, you little goose How is it you never were afraid before Please, Sir, I saw one the other night. Mr. Bartram took another look over the top of his eye glass and sat bolt upright, and John Gardener stayed his machine and listened, while poor Bill told the whole story of the Yew lane Ghost. When it was finished, the gardener, who was behind Master Arthur, said I ve heard something of this, Sir, in the village, and then added more which Bill could not hear. Eh, what said Master Arthur. Willie, take 212 the machine and drive about the garden a bit wherever you like. Now, John. Willie did not at all like being sent away the mask company at this interesting point. Another time he would have enjoyed driving over the short grass, and seeing it jump up like a little green fountain in front of him but now his whole mind was absorbed by the few words he caught at intervals of the conversation going on between John and t.