Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume Ii Part 16

"You may take him over the avenue gate," said the English groom, divining with a jockey's readiness what I looked for; "he'll do it, never fear him."

Strange as my equipment was, with an undress jacket flying loosely open, and a bare head, away I went. The gate which the groom spoke of was a strongly-barred one of oak timber, nearly five feet high,--its difficulty as a leap only consisted in the winding approach, and the fact that it opened upon a hard road beyond it.

In a second or two a kind of half fear came across me. My long illness had unnerved me, and my limbs felt weak and yielding; but as I pressed into the canter, that secret sympathy between the horse and his rider shot suddenly through me, I pressed my spurs to his flanks, and dashed him at it.

Unaccustomed to such treatment, the n.o.ble animal bounded madly forward.

With two tremendous plunges he sprang wildly in the air, and shaking his long mane with pa.s.sion, stretched out at the gallop.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CHARLEY TRYING A CHARGER.]

My own blood boiled now as tempestuously as his; and with a shout of reckless triumph, I rose him at the gate. Just at the instant two figures appeared before it,--the copse had concealed their approach hitherto,--but they stood now as if transfixed. The wild att.i.tude of the horse, the not less wild cry of his rider, had deprived them for a time of all energy; and overcome by the sudden danger, they seemed rooted to the ground. What I said, spoke, begged, or imprecated, Heaven knows--not I. But they stirred not! One moment more and they must lie trampled beneath my horse's hoofs,--he was already on his haunches for the bound,--when, wheeling half aside, I faced him at the wall. It was at least a foot higher and of solid stone masonry, and as I did so I felt that I was perilling my life to save theirs. One vigorous dash of the spur I gave him, as I lifted him to the leap. He bounded beneath it quick as lightning; still, with a spring like a rocket, he rose into the air, cleared the wall, and stood trembling and frightened on the road outside.

"Safe, by Jupiter! and splendidly done, too," cried a voice near me, that I immediately recognized as Sir George Dashwood's.

"Lucy, my love, look up,--Lucy, my dear, there's no danger now. She has fainted! O'Malley, fetch some water,--fast. Poor fellow, your own nerves seem shaken. Why, you've let your horse go! Come here, for Heaven's sake!

Support her for an instant. I'll fetch some water."

It appeared to me like a dream; I leaned against the pillar of the gate; the cold and death-like features of Lucy Dashwood lay motionless upon my arm; her hand, falling heavily upon my shoulder, touched my cheek. The tramp of my horse, as he galloped onward, was the only sound that broke the silence, as I stood there, gazing steadfastly upon the pale brow and paler cheek, down which a solitary tear was slowly stealing. I knew not how the minutes pa.s.sed; my memory took no note of time, but at length a gentle tremor thrilled her frame, a slight, scarce-perceptible blush colored her fair face, her lips slightly parted, and heaving a deep sigh, she looked around her. Gradually her eyes turned and met mine. Oh, the bliss unutterable of that moment! It was no longer the look of cold scorn she had given me last; the expression was one of soft and speaking grat.i.tude. She seemed to read my very heart, and know its truth; there was a tone of deep and compa.s.sionate interest in the glance; and forgetting all,--everything that had pa.s.sed,--all save my unaltered, unalterable love, I kneeled beside her, and in words burning as my own heart burned, poured out my tale of mingled sorrow and affection with all the eloquence of pa.s.sion. I vindicated my unshaken faith,--reconciling the conflicting evidences with the proofs I proffered of my attachment. If my moments were measured, I spent them not idly. I called to witness how every action of my soldier's life emanated from her; how her few and chance words had decided the character of my fate; if aught of fame or honor were my portion, to her I owed it. As, hurried onwards by my ardent hopes, I forgot Power and all about him, a step up the gravel walk came rapidly nearer, and I had but time to a.s.sume my former att.i.tude beside Lucy as her father came up.

"Well, Charley, is she better? Oh, I see she is. Here, we have the whole household at our heels." So saying, he pointed to a string of servants pressing eagerly forward with every species of restorative that Portuguese ingenuity has invented.

The next moment we were joined by the senhora, who, pale with fear, seemed scarcely less in need of a.s.sistance than her friend.

Amidst questions innumerable; explanations sought for on all sides; mistakes and misconceptions as to the whole occurrence,--we took our way towards the villa, Lucy walking between Sir George and Donna Inez, while I followed, leaning upon Power's arm.

"They've caught him again, O'Malley," said the general, turning half round to me; "he, too, seemed as much frightened as any of us."

"It is time, Sir George, I should think of thanking you. I never was so mounted in my life--"

"A splendid charger, by Jove!" said Power; "but, Charley, my lad, no more feats of this nature, if you love me. No girl's heart will stand such continual a.s.saults as your winning horsemanship submits it to."

I was about making some half-angry reply, when he continued: "There, don't look sulky; I have news for you. Quill has just arrived. I met him at Lisbon; he has got leave of absence for a few days, and is coming to our masquerade here this evening."

"This evening!" said I, in amazement; "why, is it so soon?"

"Of course it is. Have you not got all your trappings ready? The Dashwoods came out here on purpose to spend the day; but come, I'll drive you into town. My tilbury is ready, and we'll both look out for our costumes." So saying, he led me along towards the house, when, after a rapid change of my toilet, we set out for Lisbon.

CHAPTER XVII.

MAURICE.

It seemed a conceded matter between Power and myself that we should never recur to the conversation we held in the garden; and so, although we dined _tete-a-tete_ that day, neither of us ventured, by any allusion the most distant, to advert to what it was equally evident was uppermost in the minds of both.

All our endeavors, therefore, to seem easy and unconcerned were in vain; a restless anxiety to seem interested about things and persons we were totally indifferent to, pervaded all our essays at conversation. By degrees, we grew weary of the parts we were acting, and each relapsed into a moody silence, thinking over his plans and projects, and totally forgetting the existence of the other.

The decanter was pa.s.sed across the table without speaking, a half nod intimated the bottle was standing; and except an occasional malediction upon an intractable cigar, nothing was heard.

Such was the agreeable occupation we were engaged in, when, towards nine o'clock, the door opened, and the great Maurice himself stood before us.

"Pleasant fellows, upon my conscience, and jovial over their liquor!

Confound your smoking! That may do very well in a bivouac. Let us have something warm!"

Quill's interruption was a most welcome one to both parties, and we rejoiced with a sincere pleasure at his coming.

"What shall it be, Maurice? Port or sherry mulled, and an anchovy?"

"Or what say you to a bowl of bishop?" said I.

"Hurrah for the Church, Charley! Let us have the bishop; and not to disparage Fred's taste, we'll be eating the anchovy while the liquor's concocting."

"Well, Maurice, and now for the news. How are matters at Torres Vedras?

Anything like movement in that quarter?"

"Nothing very remarkable. Ma.s.sena made a reconnoissance some days since, and one of our batteries threw a shower of grape among the staff, which spoiled the procession, and sent them back in very disorderly time. Then we've had a few skirmishes to the front with no great results,--a few courts-martial, bad grub, and plenty of grumbling."

"Why, what would they have? It's a great thing to hold the French army in check within a few marches of Lisbon."

"Charley, my man, who cares twopence for the French army or Lisbon or the Portuguese or the Junta or anything about it?--every man is pondering over his own affairs. One fellow wants to get home again, and be sent upon some recruiting station. Another wishes to get a step or two in promotion, to come to Torres Vedras, where even the _grande armee_ can't. Then some of us are in love, and some of us are in debt. Their is neither glory nor profit to be had. But here's the bishop, smoking and steaming with an odor of nectar!"

"And our fellows, have you seen them lately?"

"I dined with yours on Tuesday. Was it Tuesday? Yes. I dined with them.

By-the-bye, Sparks was taken prisoner that morning."

"Sparks taken prisoner! Poor fellow. I am sincerely sorry. How did it happen, Maurice?"

"Very simply. Sparks had a forage patrol towards Vieda, and set out early in the morning with his party. It seemed that they succeeded perfectly, and were returning to the lines, when poor Sparks, always susceptible where the s.e.x are concerned, saw, or thought he saw, a lattice gently open as he rode from the village, and a very taper finger make a signal to him. Dropping a little behind the rest, he waited till his men had debouched upon the road, when riding quietly up, he coughed a couple of times to attract the fair unknown; a handkerchief waved from the lattice in reply, which was speedily closed, and our valiant cornet accordingly dismounted and entered the house.

"The remainder of the adventure is soon told; for in a few seconds after, two men mounted on one horse were seen galloping at top speed towards the French lines,--the foremost being a French officer of the 4th Cuira.s.siers, the gentleman with his face to the tail, our friend Sparks; the lovely unknown being a _vieille moustache_ of Loison's corps, who had been wounded in a skirmish some days before, and lay waiting an opportunity of rejoining his party. One of our prisoners knew this fellow well; he had been promoted from the ranks, and was a Hercules for feats of strength; so that, after all, Sparks could not help himself."

"Well, I'm really sorry; but as you say, Sparks's tender nature is always the ruin of him."

"Of him! ay, and of you; and of Power; and of myself; of all of us. Isn't it the sweet creatures that make fools of us from Father Adam down to Maurice Quill, neither sparing age nor rank in the service, half-pay nor the veteran battalion--it's all one? Pa.s.s the jug, there. O'Shaughnessy--"

"Ah, by-the-bye, how's the major?"

"Charmingly; only a little bit in a sc.r.a.pe just now. Sir Arthur--Lord Wellington, I mean--had him up for his fellows being caught pillaging, and gave him a devil of a rowing a few days ago.

"'Very disorderly corps yours, Major O'Shaughnessy,' said the general; 'more men up for punishment than any regiment in the service.'

"Shaugh muttered something; but his voice was lost in a loud c.o.c.k-a-doo-do-doo, that some bold chanticleer set up at the moment.

"'If the officers do their duty, Major O'Shaughnessy, these acts of insubordination do not occur.'