Page:Paul Clifford Vol 3.djvu/272

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264
PAUL CLIFFORD.

Brandon, as he mentally continued his soliloquy, he would have predicted for him as fair a grasp on longevity, as the chances of mortal life will allow. He was interrupted by the servant entering.

"It is twenty-five minutes after nine, Sir," said he respectfully.

"Sir,—Sir!" repeated Brandon. "Ah, well! so late!"

"Yes, Sir, and the Sheriff's carriage is almost at the door."

"Humph,—Minister,—Peer,—Warlock,—succession.—My son, my son!—would to God that I could find thee!"

Such were Brandon's last thoughts as he left the room. It was with great difficulty, so dense was the crowd, that the Judge drove up to the court. As the carriage slowly passed, the spectators pressed to the windows of the vehicle, and stood on tiptoe to catch a view of the celebrated lawyer. Brandon's face, never long indicative of his feelings, had now settled into its usual gravity, and the severe loftiness of his look chilled, while it satisfied the curiosity of the vulgar. It had been ordered that no person should be ad-