He raised it with a mixture of curiosity and disgust, saying again 'pah,'
as he did so.
He read the paragraph, and as he did his face changed from white, all over,
to lead colour. He raised his eyes, and looked steadily for some seconds at
the young lady, who seemed a little awed by his strange presence.
'And you are, I suppose, the young lady, Sarah Matilda _nee_ Mangles,
mentioned in this little paragraph?' he said, in a tone you would have
called a sneer, were it not that it trembled.
Sarah Matilda assented.
'My son is, I dare say, within reach. It so happens that I wrote to arrest
his journey, and summon him here, some days since--some days since--some
days since,' he repeated slowly, like a person whose mind has wandered far
away from the theme on which he is speaking.
He had rung his bell, and old Wyat, always hovering about his rooms,
entered.
'I want my son, immediately. If not in the house, send Harry to the
stables; if not there, let him be followed, instantly. Brice is an active
fellow, and will know where to find him. If he is in Feltram, or at a
distance, let Brice take a horse, and Master Dudley can ride it back.
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