Roger.—By and by, Ralph.
?? I am making up the trunks here.
Ralph.—Who looks to my lady's wardrobe? Humphrey!
?? Down with the boxes in the gallery,
?? And bring away the couch-cushions.
Shorthose.—Will it not rain?
?? To stop this journey.
?? ?? ?? —Wit without Money.
Away, you trifler!—Love?—I love thee not:
I care not for thee, Kate; this is no world
And pass them current, too. Godsme, my horse!
?? ?? ?? —Henry IV.
Lord Strathern returned the next day to Elvas, and found his daughter very desolate4, and full of more than filial anxiety to see him. She was alone, for the Commissary had, the day before, sent off his heavy baggage toward Lisbon. Lady Mabel would, at any time, have grieved at parting with a true-hearted friend like Mrs. Shortridge; but now other troubles weighed heavy on her, and so aggravated5 her obvious grief, while the chief cause was hidden, that her kind friend was deeply moved and greatly flattered at perceiving it. Had she staid longer in Elvas, Lady Mabel would have confided6 her troubles to her, knowing that, though she might not think wisely, she could feel rightly, and give both advice and sympathy. But after a struggle of hesitation7, she let Mrs. Shortridge depart in ignorance, receiving from her many kind messages and adieus for L'Isle.
Perhaps it was best that it should be so; for, had the good lady learned the usage her favorite had met with, she might, for once in her life, have boiled over with indignation.
"Well, Ma Belle," said Lord Strathern, as soon as he was alone with his daughter, "so that fellow, L'Isle, beat us, after all, at our own game. I did expect that your woman's wit would have carried it through successfully."
"Would to Heavens, papa, my woman's wit, as you call it, had been sufficient to keep me out of it altogether. How could you think of putting such a part upon me? I never would have dreamed of it, if you had not urged—insisted on my detaining him here. What is Colonel L'Isle to me, that I should manoeuvre9 to keep him in Elvas, when Sir Rowland Hill expects him in Alcantara? And as for my resenting your quarrels with him, there is an impropriety in it, and yet more in the mode you made me adopt. I am ashamed of myself—I am ashamed of you, papa, for conceiving it."
"And to fail, after all," said Lord Strathern. "And yet, by L'Isle's own account, you played your part well."
"His account!" exclaimed Lady Mabel. "To whom?"
"To us all—Sir Rowland, Bradshawe, Conway, and myself. He was disposed to be sulky and silent, at first; but, with Sir Rowland's help, we drew it all out of him."
"Drew it all out of him!" said Lady Mabel, in a faltering10 tone. She gasped11 for breath, and her cheek grew pale. But the next moment the blood rushed into her face, and she exclaimed: "What! Did Colonel L'Isle give you a full account of the party—of all that occurred that evening?"
"Full and minute. He was very reluctant to tell, as we were all laughing at him; but Sir Rowland is a good inquisitor, and made him speak out, and at length. I did not know he had so good a memory, or you so much wit."
"For Heaven's sake, papa, what did he tell you?" Lady Mabel sat watching her father with eager eyes, her hands firmly clasped, and her heel impatiently tapping the floor, while she strove to master her almost uncontrollable confusion and anxiety.
"Why, he handed me your note," said Lord Strathern. "Perhaps he meant it for my eye alone; but it was such capital bait for the trap, that I read it aloud. He then seemed to make up his mind to conceal13 nothing. He told us of your artful delays, your slow-paced coach crawling up-hill; of your efforts to entertain Mrs. Shortridge's company, and keep him employed as interpreter; your songs and your care to prolong the amusements of the evening; your affected14 fears at riding home in your old coach with your new postillion. He described your supper-party, and repeated your entertaining conversation, your libel on Moodie, gone drunk to bed, and your satire15 on Sir Rowland and the rest of us; your well-acted terror of robbers, and your triumph over him when you thought the game was won. If you had not been over-confident and too hasty, Mabel, we would have had L'Isle on the hip16."
"Was that all he told you?" asked Lady Mabel.
"Why? Was there any thing more to tell?" inquired her father.
Lady Mabel drew a deep, long breath. "Then he said nothing about my—my singing—'Constant my heart' to him?"
"How!" exclaimed Lord Strathern. "Did you sing 'Constant my heart' at him?"
"How could I help it, papa, it came in so pat to the purpose?"
"The devil it did! It seems you did not mean to fail, by under acting17 your part. It is lucky he forgot to mention it. Was there any thing more?"
"And he said nothing about squeezing my hand in the coach," asked she, hesitatingly, "when I showed so much fear of its overturning?"
"Squeezing your hand?"
"Or of his kissing it, after supper?"
"What! Had he got on so far? And pray, madam, what did you tell him?"
"Tell him!" said Lady Mabel. "I was acting a part, you know, papa; so I told him his presumption18 had put Jenny Aiken quite out of countenance19."
"By Jove! you were acting your part with a vengeance20! Why not tell him, at once, never to kiss your hand when a third person was present?"
"How can you talk so, papa? I meant no such thing. But what account did he give of his leaving the house?"
"Merely that he hurried away when you unmasked the plot to him; hastened to Elvas to get his horse, and post off to Alcantara."
"Then he said nothing of his leaping out of the window?"
"Did he leap out of the window?"
"Or of my trying to hold him back?"
"What!" exclaimed Lord Strathern, starting up. "Did he escape by jumping out of the window, and you try to detain him?"
"The height was so great, I feared he would break his neck."
"Damn his neck!" said Lord Strathern, striding up and down the room. "Better a neck cracked than a reputation. Things have come to a pretty pass. You singing love-songs at him, he squeezing and kissing your hand—perhaps going further. In these cases, women never tell the whole truth! When he would escape by a leap from your window, you try to keep him by strength of arm. You get on finely, madam! Three months in the army have done wonders for you. Three months more will accomplish you so thoroughly21, that you will be fit for no other society through life. I will tell you what, Mabel, I will not lose a moment, but bundle you up, and pack you off to your aunt, while you are yet worth sending!"
Between shame and indignation at this unjust assault from such a quarter, poor Lady Mabel burst into tears, and rushed off to her room, where she locked herself up, resolving never again to leave it until she commenced her journey homeward. It was not long before her hasty father repented22 of his coarse and violent attack on her, in a case in which the heaviest fault was his own. He came rapping at her door, and by dint23 of apologies, remonstrance24, and commands, brought her out, and induced her to spend the evening in his company. And a very uncomfortable evening it was to both of them.
Two days after this, L'Isle rode into Elvas, and brought orders with him that set the town astir. Such a breaking up of all the comfortable and luxurious25 arrangements of messes and quarters had not been lately seen. For Elvas was the Capua of the brigade, which had to lighten itself of many an incumbrance, including much of what Shortridge termed its heavy baggage, in order to bring itself to a condition to march. There was many a woeful parting, too, and scandal says that the ladies of Elvas might have laid the dust with their tears. But we will leave these stories to Colonel Bradshawe.
All was confusion in the household at headquarters. Lord Strathern had to bestir himself, to get both his brigade and himself ready to march by one route, and Lady Mabel had to prepare for her journey by another. It was now that Moodie's worth shone manifestly forth26. The old coach and harness were overhauled27 and put in order. He secured, we believe, by impressment, another pair of mules28 and two postillions. Every leaf of the hortus siccus was carefully packed, and put into the hands of an arriero, bound for Lisbon, and Jenny Aiken and William, the footman, were pulled and shoved about in a way that convinced them that it was time to be moving; yet he found plenty of time to spur up my lord's own servants, and push forward their preparations. Busy as Lord Strathern was, he failed not to remark Moodie's prompt, methodical, and energetic labors29. He pronounced him the prince of quartermasters, and a heavy loss to the army. "The old fellow would evacuate30 a fortress31, or conduct a retreat with the precision of a parade, and not leave even a dropped cartridge32 to the enemy behind him." In fact, had Marshal Soult sworn to sack Elvas to-morrow, Moodie could not have been more on the alert in getting Lady Mabel ready to leave it. Not that he was afraid of a Frenchman—he would willingly have faced him, and made his mark upon him—but when all might be lost, and nothing gained by staying, Moodie, like Xenophon, was proving his soldiership by a speedy, yet orderly retreat. He was carrying off Lady Mabel, via the villages of Lisbon and London, to his stronghold of Craggy-side, where, he trusted, she would be safe from L'Isle and Popery.
Many signs of a speedy flitting were now seen about head-quarters. Lady Mabel sat melancholy33 and alone in her half-dismantled34 drawing-room. To-morrow, she is again to enter the desert of Alemtejo, on her way back to Lisbon. What a relief she would have found in busy preparations, even for that dull journey, now robbed of all the charms of novelty and expectation; but Moodie's industrious35 alacrity36 had deprived her even of this resource. She was ready, and, instead of busy preparations, had only sad thoughts to occupy her. About to part with that father, of whom she had known more in the last three months than in all her life before; for hitherto her's had been but a child's knowledge of him—loving him and proud of him—for the defects she began to see she viewed but as minor37 blemishes38, foreign to his nature, and due solely39 to that long career in which he had known no home, nor companionship, but what he found in garrison40 and field; she could not conceal from herself the new career of danger he was about to run. Everything she heard indicated that he was now to march to fields where war's wild work would be urged on with a fury, and on a scale for which the last five campaigns, great as their results had been, were but the preparation. She shuddered41 to think that, yet a few days or weeks, and the veteran of near forty years of service may lie on his last field. This, perhaps, was not her greatest grief, but she strove to make it so, and sat gloomily and anxiously awaiting her father's return from Elvas.
Presently she heard the sound of horses' hoofs42 clattering43 on the pavement of the court. Rising from her melancholy posture44, she was going to meet her father, when, on opening the door, Colonel L'Isle stood before her.
All the incidents of the last evening they had spent together, particularly those which he had so carefully suppressed from the narrative45 wrung46 from him, rushed upon her memory. Her folly47 and his generous forbearance stood facing each other. Casting her eyes on the floor, and grasping the handle of the door, to steady her tottering48 frame, she could only gasp12 out, "I expected my father."
"My lord is very busy in Elvas, and so indeed was I," said L'Isle, coolly; "but, as I march at sunrise to-morrow, I felt bound to borrow a few minutes from duty to take my leave of Lady Mabel Stewart."
She now recollected49 herself enough to let go the handle of the door, and make room for him to enter, and, by a motion of the hand, invited him to take a seat.
Taking a chair near her, L'Isle ran his eye round the well-remembered room. Perhaps he was thinking of his last visit here—perhaps remarking its dismantled, comfortless condition. It was not more changed than he was. All his earnest frankness of manner was gone. He seemed to have borrowed a leaf from Colonel Bradshawe's book; and his air of cool self-possession, his imperturbable50 manner, under the present trying circumstances, would have excited that gentleman's admiration51, but it added a chill to the discomfort52 of Lady Mabel's position.
Had he been angry, indignant, haughty53, or sullen54, it would have been an infinite relief to her. She might have known how to deal with him, and perchance have soon brought him round to a very different mood. Now L'Isle evidently waited with cool politeness to hear some sound from her lips; and she at length stammered55 out, "I am very sorry that you are going—that is, that papa and all of you are going so soon."
"Our pleasant sojourn56 in Elvas is over!" said L'Isle, carelessly, "and Elvas is a pleasant place. Your stay here, too, has been quite an episode in winter quarters. We cannot thank you too much for the enlivening influence of your presence among us. I, for one, will ever carry with me a vivid recollection of it."
Lady Mabel bowed. How cold and formal did this sound in her ears.
"To do ourselves justice," continued L'Isle, "some of us have not been remiss57 in our efforts to enable you to pass your time pleasantly. I dare say now, were I to hold myself to a strict account, I could reckon up many an hour stolen from the dull routine of duty to devote it to Lady Mabel's service."
"I am surely deeply indebted to you for the hours you so borrowed to bestow58 on me," Lady Mabel answered, much at a loss what to say, and looking every way but at L'Isle. "When I look back, I cannot but be surprised at the amount of my gains, the knowledge and amusement I have crowded into three short months, and chiefly through you."
"That time has passed, however," said L'Isle; "I can no longer be at hand to afford you amusement. And as for knowledge, although older than you, and knowing more of life, the world, and perchance of books, I doubt whether you have been the greatest gainer in our intercourse59. But feeling a deep interest in you, I sincerely hope that you may gain one precious lesson through me."
"Never again heartlessly to throw away a friend!!" L'Isle said this more gravely than bitterly. Then rising, he bowed respectfully but formally, and was turning to go away.
Can she let him go without one word? But what can she say? She, at length, gasped out, "It was papa's doing."
"Your father's doing!" exclaimed L'Isle, with well-feigned astonishment60. "Then Lady Mabel is an automaton," he added scornfully, "and I, blockhead that I am, never found it out till now! But I am thankful for wisdom even that comes too late. I now know Lady Mabel and myself."
Was not Lady Mabel now disarmed61 and defenceless? Completely at his mercy? By no means! In this extremity62 she sheltered herself behind her strongest defences. She covered her face with her hands, and burst into tears.
Was ever man more embarrassed than L'Isle? His proud, scornful air, vanished like a snow-flake in the fire—and forgetting all that had passed, he was seizing her hands to draw them away from her face, when old Moodie abruptly63 entered the room, and called out, "Colonel L'Isle, you are wanted in Elvas?"
"What the devil are you doing here?" said L'Isle, turning round quickly, and placing himself so as to hide Lady Mabel's face.
"My duty," said the old man sternly, "and they have sent for you to attend to yours!" for he saw that something had gone wrong; and he longed to get L'Isle out of the house.
Looking into the passage, L'Isle now saw an orderly, whom Moodie had officiously brought up-stairs from the door, and he hurried out to receive the man's message, and send him off. This done, he hastily re-entered the room to speak to Lady Mabel. But he was too late! The bird had flown, and her old Scotch64 terrier was covering her retreat, shutting the door of the next room behind her, and spitefully locking it in L'Isle's face.
At sunrise, the next morning, L'Isle marched his regiment65 out of Elvas. Setting his face sternly northward66, he never once looked back on the serried67 ranks which followed him, until the embattled heights of La Lippe had hidden Elvas and its surroundings. Turning his back upon the past, he strove to look but to the future; but at the very moment of this resolve, memory cheated him, and he caught himself repeating a line of Lady Mabel's song:
"All else forgotten, War is now my theme."
and the thrilling music of her intonation68 seemed to swell69 upon his ear. He hastily exchanged his quotation70 for a greater poet's words:
"He that is truly dedicate to war,
Hath no self-love."
If it be possible to forget, he will have ample opportunity, amidst the crash of armies and the crumbling71 of an empire, to erase72 from his memory Elvas, and its "episode in winter quarters." From the heights of Traz os Montes, Wellington was now to make an eagle's swoop73 upon the north of Spain, and a lion's spring upon the herd74, driven into the basin of Vittoria. The march now begun was to lead thence to the blood-stained passes of the Pyrennees, to Bayonne, Orthes, and Toulouse, and later, to Paris, from the field of Waterloo. But who shall measure, step by step, over conquered enemies and fallen friends, this long eventful road?
That is the lot of heroes upon earth!"
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1
conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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aggravated
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| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
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6
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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7
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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manoeuvre
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| n.策略，调动；v.用策略，调动 | |
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faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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13
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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satire
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| n.讽刺，讽刺文学，讽刺作品 | |
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16
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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overhauled
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| v.彻底检查( overhaul的过去式和过去分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
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28
mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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29
labors
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| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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evacuate
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| v.遣送；搬空；抽出；排泄；大(小)便 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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cartridge
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| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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dismantled
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| 拆开( dismantle的过去式和过去分词 )； 拆卸； 废除； 取消 | |
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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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38
blemishes
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| n.（身体的）瘢点( blemish的名词复数 )；伤疤；瑕疵；污点 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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41
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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42
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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43
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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48
tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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49
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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51
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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52
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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53
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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54
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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55
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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57
remiss
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| adj.不小心的，马虎 | |
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58
bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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59
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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60
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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61
disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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62
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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63
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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64
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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65
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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66
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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67
serried
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| adj.拥挤的；密集的 | |
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68
intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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69
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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70
quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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71
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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72
erase
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| v.擦掉；消除某事物的痕迹 | |
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73
swoop
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| n.俯冲，攫取；v.抓取，突然袭击 | |
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74
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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