CHAPTER VII.
PORTENTIOUS DARKNESS.
“Ye gods, it doth amaze me!
A man of such feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world.”
—Casca.
A small, dark man, with a lithe form and sparkling eyes, had been busy preparing Justice Rives’s office for the expected court, as he had been previously directed, and was unaware of the excitement prevailing in other parts of the village. His task completed, he seated himself in an armchair, adjusted his feet high upon the post of the open door, and with his coat off and fan in hand, sat leisurely reading.
About half past three o’clock he was startled by an imperative voice, asking, “Where is Rives?”
On looking up from his newspaper, he saw Robert Baker and his legal counsel seated in the latter’s carriage, which stood before the door.
“Mr. Rives is at his house, I reckon; but he’ll be here directly,” was the reply.
“Go and tell him to come here to me,” commanded the General.