The Youth of Jefferson Part 41

"N--o," he said; "but I believe a number of invitations are out--for Denis, and others;--a good fellow, Denis."

"Excellent; and I suppose, therefore, you will be at the Raleigh this evening?"

"Yes, about twelve--I have my studies to attend to," said Hoffland, laughing; "you have no idea how much the character of _Rosalind_ has interested me lately. I think it never seized so strongly upon my attention. If ever we have any private acting, I shall certainly appear in that character!"

Mowbray smiled again.

"Your person would suit the forest page very well," he said; "for you are slender, and slight in figure. But how would you compa.s.s the scenes where Rosalind appears in her proper character--in female dress?"

"Oh!" laughed Hoffland, with some quickness, "I think I could easily act that part."

"I doubt it."

"You don't know my powers, Ernest."

"Well, perhaps not; but let us dismiss the ball, and Rosalind, and all. How motley a crowd! I almost agree with Jacques, that 'motley's the only wear.'"

"Jacques! that reminds me of the melancholy fellow we saw just now, sighing and languishing with that little Belle-bouche----"

"Why, you know her familiar name--how, Charles?"

Hoffland laughed.

"Oh" he said, "did I not leave my MS. love songs to Jacques; and can you imagine that I was ignorant of--but we are throwing away words.

Everybody's in love, I believe--Jacques is not singular. Look at this little pair of lovers--school-girl and school-boy, devoted to each other, and consuming with the tender pa.s.sion. Poor unfortunate creatures!"

With which words Hoffland laughed, and pointed to a boy and girl who were pa.s.sing along some steps in advance of them.

The girl was that young lady who received, as the reader may possibly recollect, so much excellent and paternal advice from Jacques. She was not burdened with her satchel on this occasion, but carried, in the same careless and playful fashion, a small reticule; while her cavalier took charge of her purchases, stored in two or three bundles, and kindly relinquished to the gentleman by the lady, as is still the custom in our own day.

The boy was a fine manly young fellow of sixteen, with a bright kind face, rosy and freckled. There seemed to be quite an excellent understanding between himself and his companion, and they went on conversing gaily.

But in this world we know not when the fates will interrupt our pleasures;--a profound remark which was verified on this occasion.

Just as the girl was pa.s.sing the residence of Sir Asinus, her feet dancing for joy, her curls illuminated, her reticule describing the largest possible arc of a circle--just then, little Martha, or Puss, as she was called, found herself suddenly arrested, and the over-skirt of her silk dress raised with a sudden jerk. The reticule ceased to pendulate, the conversation stopped abruptly, the boy and girl stood profoundly astonished.

"Oh, me!" cried the child, clasping her hands; "what's that?"

"Witchcraft!" suggested her companion, laughing.

"No, my dear young friends," here interposed a voice from the clouds--figuratively speaking--really from an upper window; "it is not witchcraft, but a simple result of natural laws."

The child raised her head quickly at these words, and saw leaning out of a dormer window of Mrs. Bobbery's mansion, that identical red-haired gentleman whom she had seen upon a former occasion; in a word, Sir Asinus: Sir Asinus dressed magnificently in his old faded dressing-gown; his sandy hair standing erect upon his head; his features sharper than ever; and his eyes more eloquent with philosophical and cynical humor. As he leaned far out of the window, he resembled a large owl in a dressing-gown, with arms instead of legs, fingers instead of claws.

"I repeat, sir and miss," he said blandly--"or probably it would be more proper to say, miss and sir--I repeat that this is not witchcraft, and your dress is simply caught by a hook, which hook contained a grain of wheat, which wheat has been devoured. Wait! I will descend."

And disappearing from the window, Sir Asinus soon made his appearance at the door, and approached the boy and girl. The girl was laughing.

"Oh, sir! I think I understand now--you were fishing for swallows, and the hook----"

"Caught in your dress! Precisely, my beautiful little lady, whom I have the pleasure of seeing for the fiftieth time, since I see you pa.s.sing every morning, noon and evening--precisely. Immured in my apartment for political reasons, I am reduced to this species of amus.e.m.e.nt; and this hook attached to this thread contained a grain of wheat. It floated far up, and some cormorant devoured it; then the wind ceasing, it had the misfortune to strike into your dress."

With which words Sir Asinus made an elegant bow, wrapping his old dressing-gown about him with one hand, while he extricated the hook with the other.

"There! you are free!" he said; "I am very sorry, my dear little lady----"

"Oh, indeed, sir! it is very funny! I'm almost glad it caught me, Bathurst laughed so much."

"I have the pleasure of making Mr. Bathurst's acquaintance," said Sir Asinus politely; and in spite of little Martha's correction, that Mr.

Bathurst was not his name, he added, "Your cavalier at the ball to-night, I presume?"

"Oh, sir, you are laughing," said the girl, with her bright face; "but we are going to the ball."

"And will you dance with me?"

"If _you_ will, sir."

"Extraordinary innocence!" muttered the knight, "not common among young ladies;" then he added, "I a.s.sure you, Miss--you have not told me----"

"My name is Martha, sir."

"Well, Miss Martha, I shall dance with you most delightedly. Asinus is my name--I am descended from a great a.s.syrian family; and this is my lodging. Looking up any morning, my dear Miss Martha, you will receive the most elegant bow I have--such as is due to a Fairy Queen, and the empress of my soul.--Good morning, Mowbray."

And saluting the students who pa.s.sed, laughing, Sir Asinus ascended again, muttering and wrapping his old dressing-gown more tightly around him.

"Yes," he said, "there's no doubt about the fact in my own mind;--I am just as much in love with that pretty young girl who has left me laughing and joyous, as that ridiculous Jacques is with his beauty at Shadynook. I thought at one time I was in love with Belle-bouche myself, but I was mistaken. I certainly was convinced of it, however, or why did I name my sail-boat the 'Rebecca'--that being the actual name of Miss Belle-bouche? Yet I was not in love with that young lady--and _am_ in love with this little creature of fifteen and a half, who has pa.s.sed me every morning and evening, going to school.

Going to school! there it is! I, the great political thinker, the originator of ideas, the student, the philosopher, the cynic--I am in love with a school-girl! Well, I am not aware that the fact of acquiring a knowledge of geography and numbers, music, and other things, has the effect of making young ladies disagreeable. Therefore I uphold the doctrine that love for young ladies who attend school is not wholly ridiculous--else how could those who go on studying until they are as old as the surrounding hills, be ever loved with reason? I am therefore determined to fall deeper still in love, and write more verses, and abolish that old dull scoundrel c.o.ke, and become a sighing, languishing, poetic Lovelace. I'll go and dance, and feel my pulse every hour, and look at the weather-gla.s.s of my affections, and at night, or rather in the morning, report to myself the result. What a lucky lover I am! I will write a sonnet to that thread, and an ode to the hook;--I will expand the affair into an epic!"

With which gigantic idea Sir Asinus kicked aside a volume of c.o.ke which obstructed his way, seized a pen, and frowning dreadfully, began to compose.

CHAPTER XXIV.

HOFFLAND IS WHISKED AWAY IN A CHARIOT.

"What an oddity!" said Hoffland, as leaving the domain of Sir Asinus behind them, the two students pa.s.sed on, still laughing at the grotesque appearance of the knight; "this gentleman seems to live in an atmosphere of jests and humor."

"I think it is somewhat forced."

"Somewhat forced?"

"At times."

"How?"

"I mean that he is as often sad as merry; and more frequently earnest and serious than careless."