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The stranger, dividing his time between his meal and a newspaper,--which he devoured more eagerly than the viands before him,--paid no attention to Forester's entrance; nor did he once look round. As the waiter approached, he asked hastily, "What chance there was of getting forward?"
"Indeed, sir, to tell the truth," drawled out the man, "the storm seems getting worse, instead of better. Miles Finerty's new house, at the end of the street, is just blown down."
"Never mind Miles Finerty, my good friend, for the present," rejoined the old gentleman, mildly, "but just tell me, are horses to be had?"
"Faith! and to tell your honor no lie, I 'm afraid of it." Here he dropped to a whisper. "The sick-looking gentleman, yonder, has four waiting for him, since nine o'clock; and we 've only a lame mare and a pony in the stable."
"Am I never to get this bill?" cried out Forester, in a tone that illness had rendered peculiarly querulous. "I have asked, begged for it, for above an hour, and here I am still."
"He's bringing it now, sir," cried the waiter, stepping hastily out of the room, to avoid further questioning. Forester, whose impatience had now been carried beyond endurance, paced the room with hurried strides, muttering, between his teeth, every possible malediction on the whole race of innkeepers, barmaids, waiters,--even down to Boots himself.
These imprecating expressions had gradually a.s.sumed a louder and more vehement tone, of which he was by no means aware, till the old gentleman, at the pause of a somewhat wordy denunciation, gravely added,--
"Insert a clause upon postboys, sir, and I 'll second the measure."
Forester wheeled abruptly round. He belonged to a cla.s.s, a section of society, whose cherished prestige is neither to address nor be addressed by an unintroduced stranger; and had the speaker been younger, or of any age more nearly his own, it is more than likely a very vague stare of cool astonishment would have been his only acknowledgment of the speech.
The advanced age, and something in the very accent of the stranger, were, however, guarantees against this conventional rudeness, and he remarked, with a smile, "I have no objection to extend the provisions of my bill in the way you propose, for perhaps half an hour's experience may teach me how much they deserve it."
"You are fortunate, however, to have secured horses. I perceive that the stables are empty."
"If you are pressed for time, sir," said Forester, on whom the quiet, well-bred manners of the stranger produced a strong impression, "it would be a very churlish thing of me to travel with four horses while I can spare a pair of them."
"I am really very grateful," said the old gentleman, rising, and bowing courteously; "if this be not a great inconvenience--"
"By no means; and if it were," rejoined Forester, "I have a debt to acquit to my own heart on this subject. I remember once, when travelling down to the west of Ireland, I reached a little miserable country town at nightfall, and, just as here, save that then there was no storm--"
The entrance of the long-expected landlord, with his bill, here interrupted Forester's story. As he took it, and thus afforded time for the stranger to fix his eyes steadfastly upon him, un.o.bserved, Forester quickly resumed: "I was remarking that, just as here, there were only four post-horses to be had, and that they had just been secured by another traveller a few moments before my arrival. I forget the name of the place--"
"Perhaps I can a.s.sist you," said the other, calmly. "It was Kilbeggan."
Had a miracle been performed before his eyes, Forester could not have been more stunned; and stunned he really was, and unable to speak for some seconds. At length, his surprise yielding to a vague glimmering of belief, he called out, "Great heavens! it cannot be--it surely is not--"
"Maurice Darcy, you would say, sir," said the Knight, advancing with an offered hand. "As surely as I believe you to be my son Lionel's brother officer and friend, Captain Forester."
"Oh, Colonel Darcy! this is, indeed, happiness," exclaimed the young man, as he grasped the Knight's hand in both of his, and shook it affectionately.
"What a strange rencontre," said the Knight, laughing; "quite the incident of a comedy! One would scarcely look for such meetings twice,--so like in every respect. Our parts are changed, however; it is your turn to be generous, if the generosity trench not too closely on your convenience."
Forester could but stammer out a.s.surances of delight and pleasure, and so on, for his heart was too full to speak calmly or collectedly.
"And Lionel, sir, how is he,-when have you heard from him?" said the young man, anxious, by even the most remote path, to speak of the Knight's family.
"In excellent health. The boy has had the good fortune to be employed in a healthy station, and, from a letter which I found awaiting me at my army agent's, is as happy as can be. But to recur to our theme: will you forgive my selfishness if I say that you will add indescribably to the favor if you permit me to take these horses at once? I have not seen my family for some time back, and my impatience is too strong to yield to ceremony."
"Of course,--certainly; my carriage is, however, all ready, and at the door. Take it as it is, you 'll travel faster and safer."
"But you yourself," said Darcy, laughing,--"you were about to move forward when we met."
"It's no matter; I was merely travelling for the sake of change," said Forester, confusedly.
"I could not think of such a thing," said Darcy. "If our way led together, and you would accept of me as a travelling companion, I should be but too happy; but to take the long-boat, and leave you on the desolate rock, is not to be thought of." The Knight stopped; and although he made an effort to continue, the words faltered on his lips, and he was silent. At last, and with an exertion that brought a deep blush to his cheek, he said: "I am really ashamed, Captain Forester, to acknowledge a weakness which is as new to me as it is unmanly. The best amends I can make for feeling is to confess it. Since we met that same night, circ.u.mstances of fortune have considerably changed with me. I am not, as you then knew me, the owner of a good house and a good estate.
Now, I really would wish to have been able to ask you to come and see me; but, in good truth, I cannot tell where or how I should lodge you if you said 'yes.' I believe my wife has a cabin on this northern sh.o.r.e, but, however it may accommodate us, I need not say I could not ask a friend to put up with it. There is my confession; and now that it is told, I am only ashamed that I should hesitate about it."
Forester once more endeavored, in broken, disjointed phrases, to express his acknowledgment, and was in the very midst of a ma.s.s of contradictory explanations, hopes, and wishes, when Linwood entered with, "The carriage is ready, my Lord."
The Knight heard the words with surprise, and as quickly remarked that the young man was dressed in deep mourning. "I have been unwittingly addressing you as Captain Forester," said he, gravely; "I believe I should have said--"
"Lord Wallincourt," answered Forester, with a slight tremor in his voice; "the death of my brother--" Here he hesitated, and at length was silent.
The Knight, who read in his nervous manner and sickly appearance the signs of broken health and spirits, resolved at once to sacrifice mere personal feeling in a cause of kindness, and said: "I see, my Lord, you are scarcely as strong as when I had the pleasure to meet you first, and I doubt not that you require a little repose and quietness. Come along with me then; and if even this cabin of ours be inhospitable enough not to afford you a room, we 'll find something near us on the coast, and I have no doubt we 'll set you on your legs again."
"It is a favor I would have asked, if I dared," said Forester, feebly.
He then added: "Indeed, sir, I will confess it, my journey had no other object than to present myself to Lady Eleanor Darcy. Through the kindness of my relative, Lord Castlereagh, I was enabled to send her some tidings of yourself, of which my illness prevented my being the bearer, and I was desirous of adding my own testimony, so far as it could go." Here again he faltered.
"Pray continue," said the Knight, warmly; "I am never happier than when grateful, and I see that I have reason for the feeling here."
"I perceive, sir, you do not recognize me," said the young man, thoughtfully, while he fixed his deep, full eyes upon the Knight's countenance.
Darcy stared at him in turn, and, pa.s.sing his hand across his brow, looked again. "There is some mystification here," said he, quickly, "but I cannot see through it."
"Come, Colonel Darcy," said Forester, with more animation than before.
"I see that you forget me-, but perhaps you remember this." So saying, he walked over to a table where a number of cloaks and travelling-gear were lying, and taking up a pistol, placed it in Darcy's hand. "This you certainly recognize?"
"It is my own!" exclaimed the Knight; "the fellow of it is yonder. I had it with me the day we landed at Aboukir."
"And gave it to me when a French dragoon had his sabre at my throat,"
continued Forester.
"And is it to your gallantry that I owe my life, my brave boy?" cried the old man, as he threw his arm around him.
"Not one half so much as I owe my recovery to your kindness," said Forester. "Remember the wounded Volunteer you came to see on the march.
The surgeon you employed never left me till the very day I quitted the camp; although I have had a struggle for life twice since then, I never could have lived through the first attack but for his aid."
"Is this all a dream," said the Knight, as he leaned his head upon his band, "or are these events real? Then you were the officer whose exchange was managed, and of which I heard soon after the battle?"
"Yes, I was exchanged under a cartel, and sailed for England the day after. And you, sir,--tell me of your fate."
"A slight wound and a somewhat tiresome imprisonment tells the whole story,--the latter a good deal enlivened by seeing that our troops were beating the French day after day, and the calculation that my durance could scarcely last till winter. I proved right, for last month came the capitulation, and here I am. But all these are topics for long evenings to chat over. Come with me; you can't refuse me any longer.
Lady Eleanor has the right to speak _her_ grat.i.tude to you; I see you won't listen to _mine_."
The Knight seized the young man's arm, and led him along as he spoke.
"Nay," said he, "there is another reason for it. If you suffered me to go off alone, nothing would make me believe that what I have now heard was not some strange trick of fancy. Here, with you beside me, feeling your arm within my own, and hearing your voice, it is all that I can do to believe it. Come, let me be convinced again. Where did you join us?"
Forester now went over the whole story of his late adventures, omitting nothing from the moment he had joined the frigate at Portsmouth to the last evening, when as a prisoner, he had sent for Darcy to speak to him before he died. "I thought then," said he, "I could scarcely have more than an hour or two to live; but when you came and stood beside me, I was not able to utter a word, I believe, at the time. It was rather a relief to me than otherwise that you did not know me."
"How strange is this all!" said the Knight, musing. "You have told me a most singular story; only one point remains yet unelucidated. How came you to volunteer,--you were in the Guards?"
"Yes," said Forester, blushing and faltering; "I had quitted the Guards, intending to leave the army, some short time previous; but--but--"
"The thought of active service brought you back again. Out with it, and never be ashamed. I remember now having heard from an old friend of mine, Miss Daly, how you had left the service; and, to say truth, I was sorry for it,--sorry for _your_ sake, but sorrier because it always grieves me when men of gentle blood are not to be found where hard knocks are going. None ever distinguish themselves with more honor, and it is a pity that they should lose the occasion to show the world that birth and blood inherit higher privileges than stars and t.i.tles."