CHAPTER VII.

THE GENERAL'S SECRET.

Next day, when Lewie Baronald, apparelled in all his regimental

bravery, was setting forth to visit Dolores, he was summoned by

General Kinloch, who, after working himself up to a certain degree of

sternness or firmness, real or assumed, for the occasion, said:

'Stay, young man, I pray you, as we must have some conversation

together.'

Lewie took off his Khevenhüller hat, and fearing that some

animadversions were coming, played a little irresolutely with its

upright scarlet feather.

'Your name has gone in for foreign service, Lewie,' said the General.

'To whom, sir?'

'The Director-General of Infantry.'

'Sent by you, uncle?'

'Yes, sir, by me.'

'You might at least have consulted with me in this matter. How cruel

of you, uncle, under all the circumstances!' exclaimed Lewie, with

sudden bitterness and intense anger.

'You will come to think it kindness in time, boy; I seek but to save

you from what I, in my time, underwent.'

'If I refuse to go?'

'Refuse, and compromise your honour and mine--yea, the honour of the

Brigade itself! My dear Lewie, when you have lived in this world as

long as I----'

'Why, uncle, you are only forty!'

'Not yet twice your age, certainly--well?'

'If detailed for the Colonies, anywhere, separation from Dolores will

be the death of me!' exclaimed the young man passionately.

'No, it won't; nor of Dolores either. So you are very much in love

with her?' asked the General with a scornful grin.

'God only knows how purely I love her!' exclaimed the nephew in a low

concentrated voice.

'Nature is full of freaks, certainly!'

'How?'

'She has varied the annals of the old fighting line of the Baronalds

of that Ilk, by having them varied by something else.'

'By what?'

'A moonstruck fool!'

'This is eccentricity combined with unwarrantable interference and

military tyranny,' cried Lewie, as he stuck his hat on his head and

drew himself haughtily up; then in a moment his mood changed, for he

loved this kinsman to whom he owed so much, and he said with an air

of dejection, 'How shall I ever tell Dolores of what you have done to

us both? I cannot sail for the Cape or the Caribbean Isles, and

leave her bound to me! I must release her from her promise, though I

know that she would wait a lifetime for me.'

'Poor fool that you are, Lewie! Do you forget the adage, "Out of

sight, out of mind"? You think that, like Penelope, she will wait

your return in hope, in love, and all the rest of it? You may be

like Ulysses, but never was there a Penelope among women.'

The General indulged in many more doubting and slighting remarks upon

women, particularly on their faith and constancy; and while he was

running on thus, grief struggled with rage and indignation for

mastery in the heart of Lewie, which seemed to stand still at this

sudden wrench, and the prospect of an abrupt and protracted

separation from Dolores--a separation that might be for years--every

moment of which would be an agonised heart-throb, it seemed to him

then!

How hard, how cruel, that they should be thus separated, and forced

to drink, as it were, of the bitter waters of Marah, because this

stern soldier hated all women so grotesquely, as the Countess had

said, viewing them all through the medium of one; while Lewie and

Dolores were so young that all the world seemed too small to contain

the measure of their joy, and now--now, thought was maddening!

He would resign, 'throw up his pair of colours,' as the phrase was

then; but his uncle had compromised him, by sending in his name to

the Director-General of Infantry!

Already in anticipation he imagined and rehearsed their parting;

already he saw her tears, her blanched face, and heard himself

entreating her not to forget him, while vowing himself to be true to

her--each regarding the other mournfully and yearningly, hand clasped

in hand, lip clinging to lip; then came the void of the departure;

the seas to plough, and the years that were to come with all their

doubts and longing.

It was too bad--too bad; he owed his uncle much--all in the world

indeed; but this stroke--this harsh interference, ended all between

them for ever!

Overwhelmed with dejection he cast himself into a chair; there the

General regarded him wistfully, and placing a hand kindly on his

shoulder, said:

'Lewie, shall I tell you of what once happened to me?'

But, full of his own terrible thoughts, Lewie made no reply.

'It may have been that evil followed me,' said the General, looking

down, with a hand placed in the breast of his coat.

'Evil?' repeated Lewie.

'Yes. When a boy I shot in the wood of Thomineau the last crane that

was ever seen in Scotland, and my old nurse predicted that a curse

would follow me therefor; thus, I never see a crane on a house-top

here that I don't remember her words. Now listen to what happened to

me when I was on detachment in the Dutch West India Islands. I

belonged then to the battalion of Charles Halkett Craigie, who six

years ago died Lieutenant-Governor of Namur, and we garrisoned Fort

Nassau, or New Amsterdam as it is called now. There,' continued the

General, alternately and nervously toying with his sword-knot and

shirt-frill, 'I was silly enough to fall in love with the daughter of

a wealthy merchant, a Dutch girl, like your Dolores, with some of the

old Castilian blood in her, though a lineal descendant of the great

Dutch family of Van Peere, to whom, in 1678, Berbice was granted by

the States-General as a perpetual and hereditary fief. She possessed

great beauty, and what proved more attractive still, a hundred sweet

and winning ways, with the art of saying pretty and even daring

little things, that endeared her to all--to none more than me. I was

a great ass, of course; but, heavens, what a coquette she was!'

'What was her name?' asked Lewie, with just the smallest amount of

interest.

'Excuse me telling, as I have sworn never to utter it again; nor do I

wish it to go down in the annals of our family. She wound herself

round my heart; my soul, my existence, seemed to be hers. My love

for her became a species of idolatry; but poverty tied my tongue, and

I dared not speak of it, till one evening, which I shall never

forget, the secret left me abruptly, drawn from me by _herself_. We

were lingering in the garden of her father's villa near the Berbice

river, and the stars were coming out, one by one, in the deep blue

sky above us. The hour was beautiful--all that a lover could wish;

and around us the atmosphere was fragrant with the perfume of

flowers--among those wonders of the vegetable world--the gigantic

water-lilies, each leaf of which is six feet in diameter. I was soon

to leave for Holland on duty, and my heart was wrung at the prospect

of a separation.

'I had her hand in mine: my secret was trembling on my lips; and

gazing into her eyes which were of a golden-brown colour, like that

of her hair, I said very softly:

'"If your eyes have at all times an expression so sweet, so beautiful

and winning, what must they seem to the man who reads love in

them--love for himself!"

'"Can you not read it now?" she asked in a low voice, as she cast her

long lashes down.

'I uttered her name and drew her close to me, my heart beating wildly

the while, in doubt whether this was one of the daring little

speeches I spoke of.

'Taking her sweet little face between my hands, I kissed her eyes and

forehead, on which she said, in her low cooing voice:

'"I wonder if you will ever think of me after you are gone?"

'"Darling, do you think there will ever be a day of my life when I

will not think you! Oh, the thought of our parting is worse than

death to me!"

('A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind,' thought Lewie, becoming

fully interested now.)

'"We are jesting," said she; "do not say this."

'"There is no need to tell you that I love you," said I, "for you

know that I do--dearly, fondly: that this love will last with life,

end with death;" and much more rubbish I said to the same purpose,

adding, "And you, if quite free, could you love me?"

'"I love you now; have I not admitted as much?"

'So it all came about in that way,' said the General; 'umph--what an

ass I was! May you never live to be deceived as that girl deceived

me! I thought our passion was mutual; and then perhaps she thought

so too--all perfidious though she was!

'But how happy--how radiantly happy I was for a time, till a Dutch

squadron came to anchor off the bar of the Berbice river, and in one

of the lieutenants thereof she discovered, or said she discovered, a

kinsman; and from that moment a blight fell upon me, and I discovered

that she was variable as the wind. Her attentions seemed divided for

a time; at last they were no longer given to me. Her smiles were for

the stranger; she sang to him, played to him, and talked to him only.

At home or abroad, riding or driving, or boating on the river, he was

ever by her side when not on board his ship.

'What rage and mortification were in my heart! The rules of the

service alone prevented me calling him to a terrible account, though

indeed he was not to blame.

'When I attempted to reason or remonstrate with her, she laughed;

then after a time became indignant. We parted in anger, and I felt

fury and death in my heart when she tossed my engagement-ring at my

feet.

'Once again we met, alone, and by the merest chance. How my pulses

throbbed as our eyes met, and she coyly presented her hand, which I

was craven enough, and fool enough, to fondle!

'"Oh, what have I done," said I, "that you should treat me thus? that

you should tread my heart under your feet, and leave me to long years

of sorrow and repining?"

'Then she laughed, and snatched her hand away, while once again my

soul seemed to die within me.

'"Do you love this kinsman?" I asked her fiercely; and never till my

last hour shall I forget her reply, or the almost cruel expression of

her face.

'"Yes; I love him--love him with my whole heart, and as I never loved

you!"

'Turning away, she left me--left me rooted to the spot. Yet she had

some shame, or compunction, left in her after all; for next day came

a would-be piteous letter of explanation, that she had given this

lieutenant a promise to please her father when he was dying--her

father who was his guardian; how she had never had the courage to

tell me so at first; that she did not dream I loved her so much; that

I must learn to forget her, though she would never forget me; and

so--a thousand devils!--there was an end of it.

'A few weeks after I saw her marriage in the papers, to the

Lieutenant--d--n his name--to her and her fortune of ever so many

thousand guilders.

'I tore her farewell letter into minute fragments, and set to work to

adopt her advice.'

'What was that?' asked Lewie.

'To forget her; and to do so I threw myself into my profession. I

never looked upon her face again, and I thanked God when I heard our

drums beating as we marched out of Fort Nassau, and when the accursed

shore of the Berbice river faded into the evening sea! Now, Lewie,

have I not the best of reasons for mistrusting women, and seeking to

save you from the fangs of this little ogress--this Dolores?'

'Ah, you know not her of whom you speak thus!' exclaimed Lewie.

'Nor am I likely to do so. Shun her, nephew! a girl, doubtless, with

a fair face, and a heart as black as Gehenna! Be firm, Lewie

Baronald!--firmness is a great thing, as you will find when you come

to be a general officer and as old as I am.'

Lewie had done his duty like a man and a soldier--like one worthy of

the glorious old Brigade--among the savages in the old Cape War; but

it was cruel, absurd, and, to use the Countess van Renslaer's phrase,

'grotesque,' that he should now be treated like a child, and in the

most momentous matter of his life and happiness too!

'I was weak enough--idiot enough, to wish I might die, then and

there, when that girl deceived me,' resumed his uncle bitterly; 'but

I knew that I must live on and on; I was very young, and thought I

might live for forty years with that pain in my heart at night and in

the morning. It is twenty years since then, and though the pain is

dead, I suppose, I cannot laugh at it yet, or the memory of Mercedes.'

'Mercedes! was that her name--Mercedes?'

'The devil--it has escaped me!'

'So that is the name which is not to go down in the annals of the

family?'

'Precisely so.'

'But surely, dear uncle, after all these years, you must have

forgiven her? Besides, she may be dead.'

'Dead to me, certainly! Forgiven her--well, perhaps I may have

forgiven her; but what can make a mere mortal forget a wrong, a

cruelty, or an injury?'

'Then you will not yield, but insist that I shall go abroad?'

'I will not yield an inch, and march you shall!' replied the General,

as he turned on his heel and left him.

'My darling Dolores--the first and only love of my life!' exclaimed

the young man passionately; 'how can he--how _dare_ he--act thus

towards us? But that I love him, I think, I may soon come to hate

him!'

He rushed away in search of Dolores; but she and the Countess were

from home. He was on duty at the Palace next day, and Dolores was to

be at the ridotto; thus, ere they could meet, events were to

transpire which were altogether beyond the conception of both.

The 'Scots Brigade,' and other tales · 第 7 / 13 章