The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1859-02-02
MISCELLANEOUS.
A WOMAN OF NERVE
HOW SHE GOT OUT OF A sCRAPE.

A tall, slender figure, with brown hair
falling over the shoulders and pale,
resolute face. clad in a long, flowing
dressing gown, and holding light high
above its head, and looking steadily
down at me, as ascended the stairs
this was what l saw as l went up to my
room in the Spread Eagle Inn, Grace
Church street, on the night OF the 18th
of September, 1858, as l am Chris
tian
stopped short and looked at the fig
ure, as it was looking at me. had not
been drinking, l was not walking in my
sleep. and more than all, l knew the
face and form-but what in the name of
common sense, was young lady doing
in the passage Of an old inn at that hour,
alone, and in such dress? =? She blush
ed scarlet as l drew near, and wrapped
her dressing gown more closely around
her ; but the next moment she was as
pale as before, and spoke to me eag-
! erly and hurriedlv. but in very low
Sir, are you the landlord Of this
inn 2
i am not, madam
DO you know where he is .
Down stairs in the coffee room, /
think. But what is tire matter p
Are your i'll Has anything gone
wrong?
She stamped her foot slightly with
Iimpatience, and looked me full in the
face. Fine eyes she had-blue and
soft in general-but now they were blaz-
ing. ..
! Don't stop to ask questions sir =
Bring him here at once and come back
with him yourself. Bring pistols, sir,
if you have them do you hear ?-And
run for your life-for your life ! she
added, leaning over the bannisters,
and speaking in the same low hurried
tone.
was away in an instant, though l
knew no more of my errand than the
man in the moon, But should like to
see the man who would not have done
the same. Apart from the fact that she
was claiming my aid and protection
there was something in the ring of the
voice. low as it was, and the fash of the
eye, that warned me she was not to be
trifed with. She would have made a
good general, had she been man, and |
wager my head, not soldier would
have dared to retreat, bad she spoken as
she did to me that night. But before
l finish my story. l must begin it. l
am but blundering fellow. My wife
always says. if a mistake can be made.
l am sure to make it; and l believe l
was going to tell you about the landlords
coming, before l said what he had come
for. Now, then, will commence the
thing rightly.
The Spread Eagle is still standing,
and may be seen any day by the curious
traveller, clumsy, ill-lighted house.
situated in the heart of the city, yet
keeping all its oddities, which were just
in the fashion some two or three hum
dred years ago. It is built around q
court yard, shut in by gates across
which galleries are thrown from one
door to the other with paved yard be-
low. 1t has balustrades and staircases
containing sufficient oak to build half a
modern house with and deep window
seats. and big. queer-shaped, gloomy
rooms, and odd little closets, and pic
lures that MIS-. Noah might have kept
house with in the ark, to say nothing of
the curious old china on the side boards,
and the wine glasses and decantels to
match. To an Englishman it offers the
snuggest of homes, and the roast beef
and mutton there are unexceptionable !;
while the waiter is as civil and as
steady as if he had been breathing the
atmosphere of the old place for years.
1t makes one feel respectable merely
to live there for time; and l. who had
been wild-enough college lad, found
myself SOLDERING down day by day. as l
pored over my manuscripts, or dined
quietly by myself under the eye of
Charles. the waiter. off my slice Of NUT
ton and baked potatoes. my pint Of por-
ter. and my apple or damson tart -
Quite like family man ! felt at times
though my wife aud children were with
my ship, that was to come home some
day, and bring me an immense fortune.
did not know how long the voyage
might take. not knowing even from what
port the vessel was to start: and so l
lived under the wings Of the Spread
Eagle. and worked at my manuscript and
! WaIfpi