The Soldier's Wife — page 113: what you’re looking at

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

96 THE SOLDIER'S WIFE. came ba k, but'in jumbled bewilderment, to his)Captain, “you are very ill -and you exeite brain, why the deuce do you let it stand before that eilly puling boy, Paget? He thinks himself a mmanu—he is but a child—a glass makes him drunk. Now, Seott, come up to my room, and we'll crack a bottle between us, Don’t bring old Heathcote with you: he is such an awful bore. Now, Wyndham, are you going to ride eut to-day? or let us sit down and play piequet —five guinea stakes. Oh, you prefer ecarté ¢ Well, so be it. Vl bet you twenty guineas to five that I vole you. Done! Voled by God! Have at it again! Oh, Anna, so I have got you after allf Well, you played the prude a pre- vious long time: but now youare mine. HKh— what? you talk of marriage? Absurd! Cap- tain Courtenay never marries: he loves and he seduces—but marriage be hanged! What is that you say? It will break your mother’s heart! Stutf and nonsense!—women’s hearts dou’t break. Tie him up there! I like to see the triangle. Now then, Sergeant-Major Lang- ley—tell those drummer boys to do their duty. The rascals! make them hit harder! Take up another cat; you vagabond; and now lay it on mn good style. It does one’s heart good to see hat!” In this manner did Captain Courtenay con- tinue to talk, murmuringly and wanderingly, in broken sentences—tlying from one subject to another—sometimes in low accents, sometimes with feverish excitement—while his looks mo- delled themselves to the nature of the ejacula- tions he thus sent forth. To Mrs. Lonsdale, who was standing near, a revelation was thereby made concerning the precise nature of the con- nexion between the Captain and the unfortu- nate young creature who loved him so devoted- ly, and who having first been made the dupe of his treachery, had since become the victim of his tyranny. As those portions of his sub- dued ravings, or rather wanderings, came from his lips, the wretched Anna again sank down upon her knees—again buried her face in the bedding—again gave vent to convulsive sobs. Painfully, most painfully did Lucy feel for that interesting and beautiful creature: yes—inte- resting, we repeat, because of her faithful love and devoted constancy towards the man who had ruined her. Bending down towards the kneeling, weeping, sobbing girl, Luey whis- pered in soft and soothing tones, “ Poor crea- ture! you are to be pitied rather than be sinned: and whatever happens here, I will be a friend to you.” Anna started up, and throwing herself upon Mrs. Lonsdale’s bosom, wept long and passion- ately. “ Now, is that fellow gone?” said Courtenay, after a pause in his wanderings, during which his intellect had recovered from its confusion. Mrs. Lonsdale stood back, behind the head of the common jupanued bedstead, so that she was now screened from the invalid’s view: for she was fearful that even her presence, as Lons- dale’s wife, might tend to provoke fresh excite- ment on the part of the invalid. octet 0 Henry,” said Anna, hastily wiping away her tears, and bending over the'the fallen man still clung to, even when at the “Come, Fitzmorris, pass the bottle:| yourself greatly.” “Then why do you let such people as those come near me?” demanded the invalid sharply. “They came, Henry, with the best and purest motives,” was Anna’s gentle response. “ Do not, [ beseech you—Oh, do not think ill of those kind and benevolent persons!” “What the deuce would you have me do?” interrupted Courtenay. “Hav’n’t I told you about that fellow Lonsdale’s case—what a scamp the rascal was—” “WWush, hush, for God’s sake!” ejaculated Anna, cruelly tortured on Lucy’s account, “Why should I hush if they are gone? That fellow was a private soldier; and do you sup pose, Anna, tor a single moment, that I who was his officer, will accept succour from him! | would sooner perish—I would sooner die out right of starvation. Give me some water: m throat’s as parched as perdition itself. I wis to God I had some nice cooling wine: but as I haven't, give me water. Come, look sharp about it.” Anna turned away from the couch to fill a glass with water: but Mrs. Lonsdale, stooping down to the basket which stood at her feet, drew forth a bottle of wine, which she quickly handed to the young lady; and Anna, flinging a glance of gratitude upon her, hastened to mix some wine and water in the glass. She then approached the bed, and tendering it to the invalid, said in a soft endearing tone “ Drink this, dear Henry—it will do you good.” “Why, what the deuce is it? It’s dark—it’s not water. There is wine in it,” ejaculated Courtenay. ‘‘No—there is something in it—just to color - it—it will do you good :’—and Anna spoke hesi- tatingly, with evident apprehension lest he should discover the source from whence the wine came, and in his stern unbending pride refuse it. “Well, but what the devil is it? Do you want to kuock me off at once? are you giving me poison?” he exclaimed brutally. | “Q God!” muttered the unhappy girl; and she would have fallen, had she not clung to the head of the bedstead for support. “Henry, Henry, is this the reward for all my love} Have I not clung to you devotedly? have I not suffered with you? Yes—and heaven is m witness that I have refused food, pleading ill- ness, that you might have more for yourself! Oh, it 13 too cruel—it is too cruel!” “Don’t stand whimpering there, and going on like this!” ejaculated the Captain, savagely. “T suppose it is wine, then?” he continued, still holding the glass in his hand. “ But, ah! I can guess where it comes from :”’—and in a mo- ment he dashed the contents of the tumbler upon the floor: then in a stern voice he said, “Now fill it with water,” The tears rained down poor Anna’s cheeks, as she received the glass from his hand and obeyed his mandate. She threw a deprecating imploring look upon Lucy, as much as to beseech her not to feel wounded or offended at this fresh manifestation of the intense pride which — (E(0) IOOKS mire : ae ‘