The Soldier's Wife — page 112: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE SOLDIER'S WIFE | 95 countenance was ghastly pale—the impress of | “O Henry!” exclaimed Anna, weeping bit- death’s hand was already upon it: but in the/terly, and clasping her hands in an agony of wreck and emaciation of the once haughtily/despair: “this is indeed too much. For God’s handsome features, Frederick had no difficulty|sake, Mr. Lonsdale, do not heed him! And yon, in recvgnising at the instant the dissipated and|my dear madam,” she continued, turning to reckless spendthrift—Captain Courtenay ! Lucey, whose hands she took and pressed with He started back in mingled surprise and hor-|grateful fervor, “do not, do not be angry or ror, and an ejaculation escaped his lips: but{account of this! Alas,” adiled the poor creature, the horror he thus felt was through no appre-|in a voice almost suffocated with sobs, “we nothing to fear: cle which met his eyes—the death-bed of the hension on his own account, because he had |have suffered so much that I fear his reason is ) it was excited by the specta-|unpaired.” “Captain Courtenay,” said Lonsdale, ad- once gay, dashing, handsome, and proud Cour-|vancing towards the bed, “believe me when I tenay! “Why does he ery out like that?” asked the invalid: and indeed both Lucy and Anna had turned their amazed and inquiring looks upon Frederick, “I think I ought to know that face,” continued Courtenay, gazing intently with his dull glassy eyes upon our hero: then, as the truth flashed in upon his memory, he al- most bounded in his bed, as he exclaimed in stronger accents, mingled with a haughty fierce- ness, “ Why, it is that scoundrel, Lonsdale the deserter!” Lucy was cruelly shocked; and staggering back, she clung for support to the arm of her assure you that to the utmost of my endeavors will I contribute to your comfort. Ido not for a moment forget the difference of our social positions ——” | “Then why the deuce do you stay here an longer?” interrupted the dying man, with stul unrelenting bitterness. “I don’t want your help: it suits us to live like this—doesn't it, Anna? Say yes. We don’t want for anything , and if we did, I would sooner starve—yes, by God, starve—than accept anything from such hands as yours! And now be off. Why the deuce don’t you go? Anna, turn them both out directly! Do you hear me# I command husband, who stood petrified, not knowing/you to turn them out!’”—and now, completely what to say or do: for he also was cruelly shocked at this heartless conduct on the part of one whom he had come expressly to relieve. As for Anna, she hastened to throw her arms round Courtenay’s neck, murmuring, “Do not excite yourself, dear Ilenry! No matter what Mr. Lonsdale has been, it was for the kindest and most generous purpose that he came hither now.” “Do get away, Anna—you half stifle me,” said Courtenay, with unfeeling petulance. “There! what the devil’s the use of whimper- ing like that? May I be hanged if you ain’t always erying from morning till night. But why does that fellow remain here? 1 must get up to kick him down stairs: he has only come ao mock me, just because I am under a cloud for the present :”—and Courtenay actually made an eficrt to get out of bed, repulsing poor Anna with the utmost brutality, and even hurling an unprecation at her. But the effort was too great ior him: disease held him by strong chains to that bed, which it was too evident he could never leave alive; and sinking back upon the bolster in exhaustion, he muttered with shocking bitterness, “It’s all through you, exhausted by the efforts which it cost him thus to speak, Captain Courtenay sank into a state of insensibility. “He is dead! heavens, he is dead!” ex- claimed Anna wildly; and falling upon her knees by the side of the bed, she buried her face in her hands, giving vent to the most pas sionate outpouring of grief. “ No—he is not dead: do not excite yoursell thus,” hastily whispered Lucy: then she lost n¢ time in applying restoratives—and from a bas: ket which she had brought under her cloak, and which was filled with provisions of every kind, she drew forth a bottle of brandy, and pouring some into a glass, bathed the invalid’s temples with it. For some minutes poor Anna was so over powered by her feelings that she could not lend her any assistance: the thought that he whom she loved so devotedly was no more, had strick- en her with a convulsing agony, almost driving her distracted, and from which paroxysm of anguish she could not speedily recover. But when, thanks to the kind ministration of Mrs Lonsdale, Captain Courtenay began to show signs of returning animation, the young crea Anna, throwing your arms round my neck and|ture’s grief changed into the wildest joy; and pawing me about: you have shaken all the|throwing her arms round Lucy’s neck, she em- reath out of my body.” 3 braced her fervently. It was at least twenty “Captain Courtenay,” said Lonsdale, who|minutes before the Captain returned to a com- had by this time recovered his presence of |plete state of consciousness; and in the mean- mind, “I do beseech you to understand that it!time Frederick had withdrawn from the room, is entirely with a Christian intent that I and|in order that his presence might not disturv my wife have come hither now. Weknew not/the unfortunate gentleman again on coming whom we should see. Little indeed did I ex-|back to himself. pect to recognise in Mr. Seagrave any one who| ‘“ Where am I?” murmured Courtenay, ir a was known to me.” faint voice, as he opened his eyes and gazec “T will be hanged if the fellow isn’t talking|vacantly around: but his intellect was still toe just as if we had been intimate acquaintances,” |clouded, his thoughts too confused, to enable muttered Courtenay, speaking with difficulty.|him to understand the circumstances of his po- “(ret out, I say—be off with you! If we were|sition—so that his ideas wandered into other an England, | s)ould send for the police.” channels, and the reminiseznzes of past times GOMG roo <S (G{o)