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Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume Ii Part 60

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"May I ask, sir," continued I, "if Major Monsoon is here?"

"Yes," stammered out the ensign, for such he was.

"Sorry for it, for his sake," said I; "but my orders are peremptory."

A deep groan from within, and a muttered request to pa.s.s down the sherry, nearly overcame my gravity; but I resumed:--

"If you will permit me, I will make the affair as short as possible. The major, I presume, is here?"

So saying, I pushed forward into the room, where now a slight scuffling noise and murmur of voices had succeeded silence. Brief as was the interval of our colloquy, the scene within had, notwithstanding, undergone considerable change. The English officers, hastily throwing off their aldermanic robes, were busily arraying themselves in their uniforms, while Monsoon himself, with a huge basin of water before him, was endeavoring to wash the cork from his countenance in the corner of his tabard.

"Very hard upon me, all this; upon my life, so it is! Picton is always at me, just as if we had not been school-fellows. The service is getting worse every day. Regardez-moi, Curey, mong face est propre? Eh? There, thank you.

Good fellow the Curey is, but takes a deal of fluid. Oh, Burgomaster! I fear it is all up with me! No more fun, no more jollification, no more plunder--and how I did do it. Nothing like watching one's little chances!

'The poor is hated even by his neighbor.' Oui, Curey, it is Solomon says that, and they must have had a heavy poor-rate in his day to make him say so. Another gla.s.s of sherry!"

By this time I approached the back of the chair, and slapping him heartily on the shoulder, called out,--

"Major, old boy, how goes it?"

"Eh?--what--how!--who is this? It can't be--egad, sure it is, though.

Charley! Charley O'Malley, you scapegrace, where have you been? When did you join?"

"A week ago, Major. I could resist it no longer. I did my best to be a country gentleman, and behave respectably, but the old temptation was too strong for me. Fred Power and yourself, Major, had ruined my education; and here I am once more among you."

"And so Picton and the arrest and all that, was nothing but a joke?" said the old fellow, rolling his wicked eyes with a most cunning expression.

"Nothing more, Major, set your heart at rest."

"What a scamp you are," said he, with another grin. "Il est mon fils--il est mon fils, Curey," presenting me, as he spoke, while the burgomaster, in whose eyes the major seemed no inconsiderable personage, saluted me with profound respect.

Turning at once towards this functionary, I explained that I was the bearer of important despatches, and that my horse--I was ashamed to say my mule--having fallen lame, I was unable to proceed.

"Can you procure me a remount, Monsieur?" said I, "for I must hasten on to Courtrai."

"In half an hour you shall be provided, as well as with a mounted guide for the road. Le fils de son Excellence," said he, with emphasis, bowing to the major as he spoke; who, in his turn, repaid the courtesy with a still lower obeisance.

"Sit down, Charley; here is a clean gla.s.s. I am delighted to see you, my boy! They tell me you have got a capital estate and plenty of ready. Lord, we so wanted you, as there's scarcely a fellow with sixpence among us. Give me the lad that can do a bit of paper at three months, and always be ready for a renewal. You haven't got a twenty-pound note?" This was said _sotto voce_. "Never mind; ten will do. You can give me the remainder at Brussels.

Strange, is it not, I have not seen a bit of clean bank paper like this for above a twelvemonth!" This was said as he thrust his hand into his pocket, with one of those peculiar leers upon his countenance which, unfortunately, betrayed more satisfaction at his success than grat.i.tude for the service.

"You are looking fat--too fat, I think," said he, scrutinizing me from head to foot; "but the life we are leading just now will soon take that off. The slave-trade is luxurious indolence compared to it. Post haste to Nivelle one day; down to Ghent the next; forty miles over a paved road in a hand-gallop, and an aide-de-camp with a watch in his hand at the end of it, to report if you are ten minutes too late. And there is Wellington has his eye everywhere. There is not a truss of hay served to the cavalry, nor a pair of shoes half-soled in the regiment, that he don't know of it. I've got it over the knuckles already."

"How so, Major? How was that?"

"Why, he ordered me to picket two squadrons of the Seventh, and a supper was waiting. I didn't like to leave my quarters, so I took up my telescope and pitched upon a sweet little spot of ground on a hill; rather difficult to get up, to be sure, but a beautiful view when you're on it. 'There is your ground, Captain,' said I, as I sent one of my people to mark the spot.

He did not like it much; however, he was obliged to go. And, would you believe it?--so much for bad luck!--there turned out to be no water within two miles of it--not a drop, Charley; and so, about eleven at night, the two squadrons moved down into Grammont to wet their lips, and what is worse, to report me to the commanding officer. And only think! They put me under arrest because Providence did not make a river run up a mountain!"

Just as the major finished speaking, the distant clatter of horses' feet and the clank of cavalry was heard approaching. We all rushed eagerly to the door; and scarcely had we done so, when a squadron of dragoons came riding up the street at a fast trot.

"I say, good people," cried the officer, in French, "where does the burgomaster live here?"

"Fred Power, 'pon my life!" shouted the major.

"Eh, Monsoon, that you? Give me a tumbler of wine, old boy; you are sure to have some, and I am desperately blown."

"Get down, Fred, get down! We have an old friend here."

"Who the deuce d'ye mean?" said he, as throwing himself from the saddle he strode into the room. "Charley O'Malley, by all that's glorious!"

"Fred, my gallant fellow!" said I.

"It was but this morning, Charley, that I so wished for you here. The French are advancing, my lad. They have crossed the frontier; Zeithen's corps have been attacked and driven in; Blucher is falling back upon Ligny; and the campaign is opened. But I must press forward. The regiment is close behind me, and we are ordered to push for Brussels in all haste."

"Then these despatches," said I, showing my packet, "'tis unnecessary to proceed with?"

"Quite so. Get into the saddle and come back with us."

The burgomaster had kept his word with me; so mounted upon a strong hackney, I set out with Power on the road to Brussels. I have had occasion more than once to ask pardon of my reader for the prolixity of my narrative, so I shall not trespa.s.s on him here by the detail of our conversation as we jogged along. Of me and my adventures he already knows enough--perhaps too much. My friend Power's career, abounding as it did in striking incidents, and all the light and shadow of a soldier's life, yet not bearing upon any of the characters I have presented to your acquaintance, except in one instance,--of that only shall I speak.

"And the senhora, Fred; how goes your fortune in that quarter?"

"Gloriously, Charley! I am every day expecting the promotion in my regiment which is to make her mine."

"You have heard from her lately, then?"

"Heard from her! Why, man, she is in Brussels."

"In Brussels?"

"To be sure. Don Emanuel is in high favor with the duke, and is now commissary-general with the army; and the senhora is the _belle_ of the Rue Royale, or at least, it's a divided sovereignty between her and Lucy Dashwood. And now, Charley, let me ask, what of her? There, there, don't blush, man. There is quite enough moonlight to show how tender you are in that quarter."

"Once for all, Fred, pray spare me on that subject. You have been far too fortunate in your _affaire de coeur_, and I too much the reverse, to permit much sympathy between us."

"Do you not visit, then; or is it a cut between you?" "I have never met her since the night of the masquerade of the villa--at least, to speak to--"

"Well, I must confess, you seem to manage your own affairs much worse than your friends'; not but that in so doing you are exhibiting a very Irish feature of your character. In any case, you will come to the ball? Inez will be delighted to see you; and I have got over all my jealousy."

"What ball? I never heard of it."

"Never heard of it! Why, the d.u.c.h.ess of Richmond's, of course. Pooh, pooh, man! Not invited?--of course you are invited; the staff are never left out on such occasions. You will find your card at your hotel on your return."

"In any case, Fred--"

"I shall insist upon your going. I have no _arriere pensee_ about a reconciliation with the Dashwoods, no subtle scheme, on my honor; but simply I feel that you will never give yourself fair chances in the world, by indulging your habit of shrinking from every embarra.s.sment. Don't be offended, boy. I know you have pluck enough to storm a battery; I have seen you under fire before now. What avails your courage in the field, if you have not presence of mind in the drawing-room? Besides, everything else out of the question, it is a breach of etiquette towards your chief to decline such an invitation."

"You think so?"

"Think so?--no; I am sure of it."

"Then, as to uniform, Fred?"

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Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume Ii Part 60 summary

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