Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon, Volume 2

A regular roar of laughter from both of us apprized Dennis of our vicinity.

“And it’s laughing ye are? Wouldn’t it be as polite just to hold a candle or lantern for me in this confounded watercourse?”

“How goes it, Major?” cried I, extending my hand to him through the window.

“Charley – Charley O’Malley, my son! I’m glad to see you. It’s a hearty laugh you gave us this morning. My friend Mickey’s a pleasant fellow for a secretary-at-war. But it’s all settled now; Crawfurd arranged it for you this afternoon.”

“You don’t say so! Pray tell me all about it.”

“That’s just what I won’t; for ye see I don’t know it; but I believe old Monsoon’s affair has put everything out of their heads.”

“Monsoon’s affair! What is that? Out with it, Dennis.”

“Faith, I’ll be just as discreet about that as your own business. All I can tell you is, that they brought him up to headquarters this evening with a sergeant’s guard, and they say he’s to be tried by court-martial; and Picton is in a blessed humor about it.”

“What could it possibly have been? Some plundering affair, depend on it.”

“Faith, you may swear it wasn’t for his little charities, as Dr. Pangloss calls them, they’ve pulled him up,” cried Power.

“Maurice is in high feather about it,” said Dennis. “There are five of them up at Fuentes, making a list of the charges to send to Monsoon; for Bob Mahon, it seems, heard of the old fellow’s doings up the mountains.”

“What glorious fun!” said Tower. “Let’s haste and join them, boys.”

“Agreed,” said I. “Is it far from this?”

“Another stage. When we’ve got something to eat,” said the major, “if Power has any intentions that way – ”

“Well, I really did begin to fear Fred’s memory was lapsing; but somehow, poor fellow, smiles have been more in his way than sandwiches lately.”

An admonishing look from Power was his only reply, as he walked towards the door. Bent upon teasing him, however, I continued, —

“My only fear is, he may do something silly.”

“Who? Monsoon, is it?”

“No, no. Not Monsoon; another friend of ours.”

“Faith, I scarcely thought your fears of old Monsoon were called for. He’s a fox – the devil a less.”

“No, no, Dennis. I wasn’t thinking of him. My anxieties were for a most soft-hearted young gentleman, – one Fred Power.”

“Charley, Charley!” said Fred, from the door, where he had been giving directions to his servant about supper. “A man can scarce do a more silly thing than marry in the army; all the disagreeables of married life, with none of its better features.”

“Marry – marry!” shouted O’Shaughnessy, “upon my conscience, it’s incomprehensible to me how a man can be guilty of it. To be sure, I don’t mean to say that there are not circumstances, – such as half-pay, old age, infirmity, the loss of your limbs, and the like; but that, with good health and a small balance at your banker’s, you should be led into such an embarrassment – ”

“Men will flirt,” said I, interrupting; “men will press taper fingers, look into bright eyes, and feel their witchery; and although the fair owners be only quizzing them half the time, and amusing themselves the other, and though they be the veriest hackneyed coquettes – ”

“Did you ever meet the Dalrymple girls, Dennis?” said Fred, with a look I shall never forget.

What the reply was I cannot tell. My shame and confusion were overwhelming, and Power’s victory complete.

“Here comes the prog,” cried Dennis, as Power’s servant entered with a very plausible-looking tray, while Fred proceeded to place before us a strong army of decanters.

Our supper was excellent, and we were enjoying ourselves to the utmost, when an orderly sergeant suddenly opened the door, and raising his hand to his cap, asked if Major Power was there.

“A letter for you, sir.”

“Monsoon’s writing, by Jove! Come, boys, let us see what it means. What a hand the old fellow writes! The letters look all crazy, and are tumbling against each other on every side. Did you ever see anything half so tipsy as the crossing of that t?”

“Read it. Read it out, Fred!”

Tuesday Evening.

Dear Power, – I’m in such a scrape! Come up and see me at once, bring a little sherry with you, and we’ll talk over what’s to be done.

Yours ever,

B. MONSOON.Quarter-General.

We resolved to finish our evening with the major; so that, each having armed himself with a bottle or two, and the remnants of our supper, we set out towards his quarters, under the guidance of the orderly. After a sharp walk of half an hour, we reached a small hut, where two sentries of the Eighty-eighth were posted at the door.

O’Shaughnessy procured admittance for us, and in we went. At a small table, lighted by a thin tallow candle, sat old Monsoon, who, the weather being hot, had neither coat nor wig on; an old cracked china tea-pot, in which as we found afterwards he had mixed a little grog, stood before him, and a large mass of papers lay scattered around on every side, – he himself being occupied in poring over their contents, and taking occasional draughts from his uncouth goblet.

As we entered noiselessly, he never perceived us, but continued to mumble over, in a low tone, from the documents before him: —

“Upon my life, it’s like a dream to me! What infernal stuff this brandy is!”

CHARGE No. 8. – For conduct highly unbecoming an officer and a gentleman, in forcing the cellar of the San Nicholas convent at Banos, taking large quantities of wine therefrom, and subsequently compelling the prior to dance a bolero, thus creating a riot, and tending to destroy the harmony between the British and the Portuguese, so strongly inculcated to be preserved by the general orders.

“Destroy the harmony! Bless their hearts! How little they know of it! I’ve never passed a jollier night in the Peninsula! The prior’s a trump, and as for the bolero, he would dance it. I hope they say nothing about my hornpipe.”

CHARGE No. 9. – For a gross violation of his duty as an officer, in sending a part of his brigade to attack and pillage the alcalde of Banos; thereby endangering the public peace of the town, being a flagrant breach of discipline and direct violation of the articles of war.

“Well, I’m afraid I was rather sharp on the alcalde, but we did him no harm except the fright. What sherry the fellow had! ‘t would have been a sin to let it fall into the hands of the French.”

CHARGE No. 10. – For threatening, on or about the night of the 3d, to place the town of Banos under contribution, and subsequently forcing the authorities to walk in procession before him, in absurd and ridiculous costumes.

“Lord, how good it was! I shall never forget the old alcalde! One of my fellows fastened a dead lamb round his neck, and told him it was the golden fleece. The commander-in-chief would have laughed himself if he had been there. Picton’s much too grave, – never likes a joke.”

CHARGE No. 11. – For insubordination and disobedience, in refusing to give up his sword, and rendering it necessary for the Portuguese guard to take it by force, – thereby placing himself in a situation highly degrading to a British officer.

“Didn’t I lay about me before they got it! Who’s that? Who’s laughing there? Ah, boys, I’m glad to see you! How are you, Fred? Well, Charley, I’ve heard of your scrape; very sad thing for so young a fellow as you are. I don’t think you’ll be broke; I’ll do what I can. I’ll see what I can do with Picton; we are very old friends, were at Eton together.”

“Many thanks, Major; but I hear your own affairs are not flourishing. What’s all this court-martial about?”

“A mere trifle; some little insubordination in the legion. Those Portuguese are sad dogs. How very good of you, Fred, to think of that little supper.”

While the major was speaking, his servant, with a dexterity the fruit of long habit, had garnished the table with the contents of our baskets, and Monsoon, apologizing for not putting on his wig, sat down among us with a face as cheerful as though the floor was not covered with the charges of the court-martial to be held on him.

As we chatted away over the campaign and its chances, Monsoon seemed little disposed to recur to his own fortunes. In fact, he appeared to suffer much more from what he termed my unlucky predicament than from his own mishaps. At the same time, as the evening wore on, and the sherry began to tell upon him, his heart expanded into its habitual moral tendency, and by an easy transition, he was led from the religious association of convents to the pleasures of pillaging them.

“What wine they have in their old cellars! It’s such fun drinking it out of great silver vessels as old as Methuselah. ‘There’s much treasure in the house of the righteous,’ as David says; and any one who has ever sacked a nunnery knows that.”

“I should like to have seen that prior dancing the bolero,” said Power.

“Wasn’t it good, though! He grew jealous of me, for I performed a hornpipe. Very good fellow the prior; not like the alcalde, – there was no fun in him. Lord bless him! he’ll never forget me.”

“What did you do with him, Major?”

“Well, I’ll tell you; but you mustn’t let it be known, for I see they have not put it in the court-martial. Is there no more sherry there? There, that will do; I’m always contented. ‘Better a dry morsel with quietness,’ as Moses says. Ay, Charley, never forget that ‘a merry heart is just like medicine.’ Job found out that, you know.”

“Well, but the alcalde, Major.”

“Oh! the alcalde, to be sure. These pious meditations make me forget earthly matters.”

“This old alcalde at Banos, I found out, was quite spoiled by Lord Wellington. He used to read all the general orders, and got an absurd notion in his head that because we were his allies, we were not allowed to plunder. Only think, he used to snap his fingers at Beresford, didn’t care twopence about the legion, and laughed outright at Wilson. So, when I was ordered down there, I took another way with him. I waited till night-fall, ordered two squadrons to turn their jackets, and sent forward one of my aides-de-camp, with a few troopers, to the alcalde’s house. They galloped into the courtyard, blowing trumpets and making an infernal hubbub. Down came the alcalde in a passion. ‘Prepare quarters quickly, and rations for eight hundred men.’

“‘Who dares to issue such an order?’ said he.

“The aide-de-camp whispered one word in his ear, and the old fellow grew pale as death. ‘Is he here; is he coming, – is he coming?’ said he, trembling from head to foot.

“I rode in myself at this moment looking thus, —

“‘Où est le malheureux?’ said I, in French, – you know I speak French like Portuguese.”

“Devilish like, I’ve no doubt,” muttered Power.

“‘Pardon, gracias eccellenza!’ said the alcalde, on his knees.”

“Who the deuce did he take you for, Major?”

“You shall hear; you’ll never guess, though. Lord, I shall never forget it! He thought I was Marmont; my aide-de-camp told him so.”

One loud burst of laughter interrupted the major at this moment, and it was some considerable time before he could continue his narrative.

“And do you really mean,” said I, “that you personated the Duke de Raguse?”

“Did I not, though? If you had only seen me with a pair of great mustaches, and a drawn sabre in my hand, pacing the room up and down in presence of the assembled authorities. Napoleon himself might have been deceived. My first order was to cut off all their heads; but I commuted the sentence to a heavy fine. Ah, boys, if they only understood at headquarters how to carry on a war in the Peninsula, they’d never have to grumble in England about increased taxation! How I’d mulet the nunneries! How I’d grind the corporate towns! How I’d inundate the country with exchequer bills! I’d sell the priors at so much a head, and put the nuns up to auction by the dozen.”

“You sacrilegious old villain! But continue the account of your exploits.”

“Faith, I remember little more. After dinner I grew somewhat mellow, and a kind of moral bewilderment, which usually steals over me about eleven o’clock, induced me to invite the alcalde and all the aldermen to come and sup. Apparently, we had a merry night of it, and when morning broke, we were not quite clear in our intellects. Hence came that infernal procession; for when the alcalde rode round the town with a paper cap, and all the aldermen after him, the inhabitants felt offended, it seems, and sent for a large Guerilla force, who captured me and my staff, after a very vigorous resistance. The alcalde fought like a trump for us, for I promised to make him Prefect of the Seine; but we were overpowered, disarmed, and carried off. The remainder you can read in the court-martial, for you may think that after sacking the town, drinking all night, and fighting in the morning, my memory was none of the clearest.”

“Did you not explain that you were not the marshal-general?”

“No, faith, I know better than that; they’d have murdered me had they known their mistake. They brought me to headquarters in the hope of a great reward, and it was only when they reached this that they found out I was not the Duke de Raguse; so you see, boys, it’s a very complicated business.”

“‘Gad, and so it is,” said Power, “and an awkward one, too.”

“He’ll be hanged, as sure as my name’s Dennis!” vociferated O’Shaughnessy, with an energy that made the major jump from his chair. “Picton will hang him!”

“I’m not afraid,” said Monsoon; “they know me so well. Lord bless you, Beresford couldn’t get on without me!”

“Well, Major,” said I, “in any case, you certainly take no gloomy nor desponding view of your case.”

“Not I, boy. You know what Jeremiah says: ‘a merry heart is a continual feast;’ and so it is. I may die of repletion, but they’ll never find me starved with sorrow.”

“And, faith, it’s a strange thing!” muttered O’Shaughnessy, thinking aloud; “a most extraordinary thing! An honest fellow would be sure to be hanged; and there’s that old rogue, that’s been melting down more saints and blessed Virgins than the whole army together, he’ll escape. Ye’ll see he will!”

“There goes the patrol,” said Fred; “we must start.”

“Leave the sherry, boys; you’ll be back again. I’ll have it put up carefully.”

We could scarcely resist a roar of laughter as we said, “Good-night.”

“Adieu, Major,” said I; “we shall meet soon.”

So saying, I followed Power and O’Shaughnessy towards their quarters.

“Maurice has done it beautifully!” said Power. “Pleasant revelations the old fellow will make on the court-martial, if he only remembers what we’ve heard to-night! But here we are, Charley; so good-night, and remember, you breakfast with me to-morrow.”

CHAPTER XXIX

THE CONFIDENCE

“I have changed the venue, Charley,” said Power, as he came into my room the following morning, – “I’ve changed the venue, and come to breakfast with you.”

I could not help smiling as a certain suspicion crossed my mind; perceiving which, he quickly added, —

“No, no, boy! I guess what you’re thinking of. I’m not a bit jealous in that quarter. The fact is, you know, one cannot be too guarded.”

“Nor too suspicious of one’s friends, apparently.”

“A truce with quizzing. I say, have you reported yourself?”

“Yes; and received this moment a most kind note from the general. But it appears I’m not destined to have a long sojourn among you, for I’m desired to hold myself in readiness for a journey this very day.”

“Where the deuce are they going to send you now?”

“I’m not certain of my destination. I rather suspect there are despatches for Badajos. Just tell Mike to get breakfast, and I’ll join you immediately.”

When I walked into the little room which served as my salon, I found Power pacing up and down, apparently wrapped in meditation.

“I’ve been thinking, Charley,” said he, after a pause of about ten minutes, – “I’ve been thinking over our adventures in Lisbon. Devilish strange girl that senhora! When you resigned in my favor, I took it for granted that all difficulty was removed. Confound it! I no sooner began to profit by your absence, in pressing my suit, than she turned short round, treated me with marked coldness, exhibited a hundred wilful and capricious fancies, and concluded one day by quietly confessing to me you were the only man she cared for.”

“You are not serious in all this, Fred?” said I.

“Ain’t I though, by Jove! I wish to Heaven I were not! My dear Charley, the girl is an inveterate flirt, – a decided coquette. Whether she has a particle of heart or not, I can’t say; but certainly her greatest pleasure is to trifle with that of another. Some absurd suspicion that you were in love with Lucy Dashwood piqued her vanity, and the anxiety to recover a lapsing allegiance led her to suppose herself attached to you, and made her treat all my advances with the most frigid indifference or wayward caprice; the more provoking,” continued he, with a kind of bitterness in his tone, “as her father was disposed to take the thing favorably; and, if I must say it, I felt devilish spooney about her myself.

“It was only two days before I left, that in a conversation with Don Emanuel, he consented to receive my addresses to his daughter on my becoming lieutenant-colonel. I hastened back with delight to bring her the intelligence, and found her with a lock of hair on the book before her, over which she was weeping. Confound me, if it was not yours! I don’t know what I said, nor what she replied; but when we parted, it was with a perfect understanding we were never to meet again. Strange girl! She came that evening, put her arm within mine as I was walking alone in the garden, and half in jest, half in earnest, talked me out of all my suspicions, and left me fifty times more in love with her than ever. Egad! I thought I used to know something about women, but here is a chapter I’ve yet to read. Come, now, Charley, be frank with me; tell me all you know.”

“My poor Fred, if you were not head and ears in love, you would see as plainly as I do that your affairs prosper. And after all, how invariable is it that the man who has been the veriest flirt with women, – sighing, serenading, sonneteering, flinging himself at the feet of every pretty girl he meets with, – should become the most thorough dupe to his own feelings when his heart is really touched. Your man of eight-and-thirty is always the greatest fool about women.”

“Confound your impertinence! How the devil can a fellow with a mustache not stronger that a Circassian’s eyebrow read such a lecture to me?”

“Just for the very reason you’ve mentioned. You glide into an attachment at my time of life; you fall in love at yours.”

“Yes,” said Power, musingly, “there is some truth in that. This flirting is sad work. It is just like sparring with a friend; you put on the gloves in perfect good humor, with the most friendly intentions of exchanging a few amicable blows; you find yourself insensibly warm with the enthusiasm of the conflict, and some unlucky hard knock decides the matter, and it ends in a downright fight.

“Few men, believe me, are regular seducers; and among those who behave ‘vilely’ (as they call it), three-fourths of the number have been more sinned against than sinning. You adventure upon love as upon a voyage to India. Leaving the cold northern latitudes of first acquaintance behind you, you gradually glide into the warmer and more genial climate of intimacy. Each day you travel southward shortens the miles and the hours of your existence; so tranquil is the passage, and so easy the transition, you suffer no shock by the change of temperature about you. Happy were it for us that in our courtship, as in our voyage, there were some certain Rubicon to remind us of the miles we have journeyed! Well were it if there were some meridian in love!”

“I’m not sure, Fred, that there is not that same shaving process they practise on the line, occasionally performed for us by parents and guardians at home; and I’m not certain that the iron hoop of old Neptune is not a pleasanter acquaintance than the hair-trigger of some indignant and fire-eating brother. But come, Fred, you have not told me the most important point, – how fare your fortunes now; or in other words, what are your present prospects as regards the senhora?”

“What a question to ask me! Why not request me to tell you where Soult will fight us next, and when Marmont will cross the frontier? My dear boy, I have not seen her for a week, an entire week, – seven full days and nights, each with their twenty-four hours of change and vacillation.”

“Well, then, give me the last bulletin from the seat of war; that at least you can do. Tell me how you parted.”

“Strangely enough. You must know we had a grand dinner at the villa the day before I left; and when we adjourned for our coffee to the garden, my spirits were at the top of their bent. Inez never looked so beautiful, never was one half so gracious; and as she leaned upon my arm, instead of following the others towards the little summer-house, I turned, as if inadvertently, into a narrow, dark alley that skirts the lake.”

“I know it well; continue.”

Power reddened slightly, and went on: —

“‘Why are we taking this path?’ said Donna Inez; ‘this is, surely, not a short way?’

“‘Oh, I wished to make my adieux to my old friends the swans. You know I go to-morrow.’

“‘Ah, that’s true,’ added she. ‘I’d quite forgotten it.’

“This speech was not very encouraging; but as I felt myself in for the battle, I was not going to retreat at the skirmish. ‘Now or never,’ thought I. I’ll not tell you what I said. I couldn’t, if I would. It is only with a pretty woman upon one’s arm; it is only when stealing a glance at her bright eyes, as you bend beyond the border of her bonnet, – that you know what it is to be eloquent. Watching the changeful color of her cheek with a more anxious heart than ever did mariner gaze upon the fitful sky above him, you pour out your whole soul in love; you leave no time for doubt, you leave no space for reply. The difficulties that shoot across her mind you reply to ere she is well conscious of them; and when you feel her hand tremble, or see her eyelids fall, like the leader of a storming party when the guns slacken in their fire, you spring boldly forward in the breach, and blind to every danger around you, rush madly on, and plant your standard upon the walls.”

“I hope you allow the vanquished the honors of war,” said I, interrupting.

Without noticing my observation, he continued: —

“I was on my knee before her, her hand passively resting in mine, her eyes bent upon me softly and tearfully – ”

“The game was your own, in fact.”

“You shall hear.

“‘Have we stood long enough thus, Senhor?’ said she, bursting into a fit of laughter.

“I sprang to my legs in anger and indignation.

“‘There, don’t be passionate; it is so tiresome. What do you call that tree there?’

“‘It is a tulip-tree,’ said I, coldly.

“‘Then, to put your gallantry to the test, do climb up there and pluck me that flower. No, the far one. If you fall into the lake and are drowned, why it would put an end to this foolish interview.’

“‘And if not?’ said I.

“‘Oh, then I shall take twelve hours to consider of it; and if my decision be in your favor, I’ll give you the flower ere you leave to-morrow.’

“It’s somewhat about thirty years since I went bird-nesting, and hang me, if a tight jacket and spurs are the best equipment for climbing a tree; but up I went, and, amidst a running fire of laughter and quizzing, reached the branch and brought it down safely.

“Inez took especial care to avoid me the rest of the evening. We did not meet until breakfast the following morning. I perceived then that she wore the flower in her belt; but, alas! I knew her too well to augur favorably from that; besides that, instead of any trace of sorrow or depression at my approaching departure, she was in high spirits, and the life of the party. ‘How can I manage to speak with her?’ said I to myself. ‘But one word, – I already anticipate what it must be; but let the blow fall – anything is better than this uncertainty.’

“‘The general and the staff have passed the gate, sir,’ said my servant at this moment.

“‘Are my horses ready?’

“‘At the door, sir; and the baggage gone forward.’