You are a gentleman of excellent breeding, admirable discourse, of
great admittance; authentic in your place and person, and generally
allowed for your many warlike, courtlike, and learned
preparations.--_Merry Wives of Windsor_.
So time ran merrily on in Elvas, and most merrily at headquarters;
thanks to Lord Strathern's hospitality, and to the elegance, variety
and life Lady Mabel gave to the brilliant circle she attracted
thither.
Entering her father's sitting-room one morning, she found him in
conference with a gentleman whom she had never seen before. They were
so much engrossed in conversation, that she had time to remark,
unobserved, that he was young, handsome, and an officer of rank, but
thin and pallid, as if just released from long confinement in a sick
room. She was about to withdraw, when the stranger, turning to take a
paper from the table, saw her. After an abstracted look of admiring
curiosity, as if gazing on a fine picture, unexpectedly placed before
him, he recollected himself, and rose from his chair.
"This must be Lady Mabel Stewart. Pray, my lord, present me to your
daughter."
"What, _Ma Belle_, are you here? L'Isle, let me make you known to my
daughter. Like yourself, she occupies a distinguished post in the
brigade, though not quite so well defined as yours."
Lady Mabel acknowledged this addition to her acquaintance; then
said, "but I see you are busy, papa."
"Not at all," said he, thrusting some papers into his portfolio, "sit
with us here;" and he drew a chair for her. "L'Isle has been so long
in his sick room, that a little of our pleasant company will do him
good. You must have suffered much from solitude, L'Isle, as well as
from your wounds."
"Surgeons and servants were my sole companions. Their rude hands, too,
convinced me that our sex were never meant for nurses. A sister of
mercy would have been an angel of light; and if young and
good-looking, she might have made a convert of me to her church."
Lady Mabel could perceive that her father treated his companion with
unusual consideration, and L'Isle was induced to prolong his visit for
an hour and more. He was certainly well-bred and well-informed, and
seemed disposed to make himself agreeable; yet there was something in
his manner that puzzled and annoyed her. It was not the little reserve
which he exhibited toward her father, yet more than to herself. It was
not that he was out of spirits; for he was quite animated at times. It
seemed to be a feeling of--Lady Mabel's self-satisfaction did not
permit her immediately to perceive what this feeling was.
"So," said she to herself, when L'Isle had taken his leave, her father
accompanying him out of the room, "So this is the veritable
Lieutenant-Colonel L'Isle! After hearing of him daily for three weeks,
I have now seen him in real life, or rather, half alive; for the
cadaverous gentleman seems to have had at least half his life let out
of him in that last affair. This is the glass in which the young
lieutenants and ensigns of the brigade dress themselves. As Colonel
Bradshawe says, there is no need to distribute copies of the articles
of war among them. They may all be condensed into one injunction: 'Be
just like Lieutenant-Colonel L'Isle, and you will rise like him; and
deserve to rise--if you have as strong family interest to back you.'
But he seems to have suffered much from his wounds, poor fellow, and
in spite of family interest, to have been very near leaving his
regiment vacant for another aspirant."
"By-the-bye," said Lady Mabel, as a new light flashed upon her, "he
seemed to pity me all the time he was talking to me. That was it! A
condescending commiseration in every look, and in every word he
uttered. I am very much indebted to him for his sympathy." Here she
assumed a haughty air. "But we certainly do not know ourselves; for I
cannot, for the life of me, discover what he sees so pitiable about
me. He is, doubtless, a very over-weening fellow--I do not like him at
all!" And, with a haughty wave of the hand, she dismissed an imaginary
personage from her presence, and moved off with dignity to her own
room. Now, be it remembered, that Lady Mabel, walking in "maiden
meditation, fancy free," among the officers of the brigade, had never,
until this moment, thought it worth while to ask herself, as to any of
them, whether she liked him or not.
While she was thus meditating and soliloquizing, L'Isle had mounted
his horse, and was riding slowly back to his quarters, meditating and
soliloquizing, too.
"What on earth was Lord Strathern dreaming of, when he brought his
daughter out here--and such a daughter--to preside over his house and
his table? She might as well take her seat at the head of a regimental
mess-table. We know his habits of life. He cannot dine comfortably
without half a dozen fast fellows about him. To make it worse, has a
new set every day. And with his notions of hospitality, all are made
free of the house. Of course, they become her companions, and to such
a degree of freedom, that she can only get out of their way by
shutting herself up in her chamber. She can scarcely have a female
companion an hour in the week; for the few of our ladies here have no
leisure to be trotting out of Elvas, down to headquarters, to play
chaperon to a young girl who ought to be in England."
"Here is a man," continued L'Isle to himself, in an indignant tone,
and so loud that his servant spurred up from behind him to see if he
was wanted. "Here is a man who has been near forty years in the
service, and has not yet found out what kind of women are made out of
these garrison girls. Bold, flippant creatures, light infantry in
petticoats, destitute of the delicacy and modesty, without which a
woman may be honest by good luck, but can never be a lady deserving
the name.
"She seems to retain yet the air and manner, and, I trust, the modesty
and purity of mind that should grace such beauty. But how will it be
six months hence? Her situation is absolutely improper. Lord Strathern
has shown himself no more fit to bring up such a daughter, or even to
take charge of her, after some fitter person has brought her up, than
he is to say mass." For here L'Isle's eye fell on a fat priest,
toiling up the hill beside him. "Though he may be as fit for that as
some of these gentry. No more fit," continued he, struggling after
another simile, "than for a professor of Greek literature." For during
his late solitude his thoughts had often wandered back to his old
haunts, before he had broken off a promising career at Oxford, to join
the first British expedition that had come out to Portugal nearly five
years ago.
"I am sorry for her, upon my soul I am. She would make so fine a woman
in proper hands! I wonder if some remedy cannot be found against the
effects of her father's folly--his forgetfulness of what is due to
maiden delicacy and the privacies of domestic life!"
L'Isle was still meditating on this interesting subject when he
dismounted at his own quarters, one of the best houses on the _praça_,
or public square of Elvas.
Lady Mabel was right in supposing that family interest had something
to do with putting L'Isle at the head of a regiment when just
twenty-four. Such instances have been common enough in the British
service--and not rare in others, in all ages of the world. Family
interest, or something very like it, put Alexander, at the age of
twenty, at the head of an army with which he went on conquering to the
end of his short life. The same influence put Hannibal, at
twenty-seven, at the head of an army with which he continued for
seventeen years to shake the foundations of Rome. Family interest
thrust forward such men as Edward the Black Prince, the fifth Harry of
England, and the fourth Henri of France. This, too, thrust forward the
great Condè to offer to France the first fruits of his heroism, when
victor at Rocroi, at twenty-two. So, too, with Gustavus Adolphus,
Turenne, Eugene of Savoy, and Frederick the Great. Family interest,
not of the most creditable kind, turned the courtier Churchill into
the conquering Marlborough; and his nephew, the gallant young Berwick,
found that being, somewhat irregularly, the son of an English king,
helped him much in obtaining the command of the armies of France. Just
at this time the son of an earl, and the brother of a governor-general
of India, pushed on by family interest, was proving himself not unfit
to direct the efforts of the British arms. It is curious to see in
these, and many an instance more in military history, how aptly family
interest has come into play. It is likely that these men were not the
mere creatures of accident, but had each merits of his own, and in
spite of whispered insinuations, so had Lieutenant-Colonel L'Isle,
though nephew and heir to an earl. Having chosen his profession, he
followed it laboriously and gallantly, as if he had not been heir to
an acre--but bore his fortunes on the point of his sword.
He had just reached Elvas, after spending six tedious weeks at Ciudad
Rodrigo, under the surgeon's hands. He now found his own hands full of
regimental business--accumulated against his arrival--and being a
prompt man, set himself to work, though yet little fit for it.
Though he had seen Lady Mabel but once, he was not suffered to forget
her. Every young officer he met, and many of the older, had something
to say of her, some comment to make on the attractions at
headquarters, some details to give of the witty things said, and the
graceful things done by Lady Mabel; for she said many happy things,
and did many things well, and was, at all events, sure of admiration.
All this only the more convinced L'Isle that her position was very
inappropriate to one so beautiful and young.
After some days he began to think himself guilty of gross neglect in
not having called on the lady at headquarters. Disliking, however, to
make one of an admiring crowd, he showed his strategy in choosing well
his time, and called on Lady Mabel on the day and at the hour when an
inspection of the troops having been ordered, every officer was at his
post except himself--yet too weak to be expected to put himself at the
head of his regiment.
On calling, he was immediately admitted. Lady Mabel apparently had
been reading in the room in which she received him. He now saw her for
the first time alone, and she was by no means aware what a critical
examination she was undergoing. Her manner was different from what he
had expected. With quiet politeness she received his visit as one of
mere etiquette to the lady at headquarters. That repose of manner
might indicate a cold disposition, or might cover strength of
character and depth of feeling, not given to perpetual demonstrations,
but showing vigor and animation, with telling effect, at the right
time. There was no indication of that craving for company, of the
ennui at being thrown upon her own resources for a whole morning, so
common with young women brought up in a crowd, and habitually
surrounded by admirers. "As yet," thought L'Isle, "she has escaped
that." He even thought he could perceive that he had interrupted her
in some occupation, which would be resumed the moment he left her;
that his visit was a parenthesis awkwardly thrust in between, and
breaking the connection of her morning hours.
Lady Mabel expressed some surprise at his being at leisure just at
this time, but added: "I suppose you are yet too weak to burden
yourself with such mere formalities as parades and inspections."
L'Isle was a martinet, and this a military heresy. "Keeping the troops
up to the mark, fit for instant service, is not a matter of form; and
that is the end of parades and inspections. But," added he, smiling,
"I am not surprised at your mistake; for I find, on coming to Elvas,
that many of my brother officers have embraced the same opinion. They
have got tired of these formalities, and dispense with them as often
as they can. But I must not find fault with them, while indulging
myself as an invalid longer than is absolutely necessary. Confinement
and idleness have made me a little lazy."
An air of languor, and the marks of recent suffering, fully excused
what he called his laziness. They did something more for him by
exciting Lady Mabel's sympathy, putting her at ease, and inducing her
to exert herself to entertain him; and during their conversation
L'Isle was quietly on the watch for each indication of character his
fascinating companion might betray.
Presently she rested her elbow on a thick quarto on the table beside
her. L'Isle then observed that it was a Portuguese and English
dictionary, and saw a volume of Count Ericeira's works beside it.
"I see, Lady Mabel, that you do not mean to remain ignorant of the
language of the people you have come among."
"I wish not to remain ignorant. But between my own dullness and the
want of a master, I make wonderfully slow progress. It is very
provoking, particularly to a woman, to be in the midst of a people
whom she can neither talk to nor understand."
"It is certainly better," said L'Isle, "to learn to fight before we go
into battle, and to speak a people's language before we throw
ourselves among them."
"Very true. But I have been thrown very unexpectedly among these
Portuguese. I came out merely to visit my father, you know. That is,
he sent for me, not having seen me for years. That must account," said
she, laughing, "for my joining the brigade. I am not even a volunteer
among you; nor shall I subject myself to the articles of war."
"You are a traveler, then, and not a soldier," said L'Isle.
"I am a daughter," she answered, "and in that character I come. But,
beside the pleasure of being with my father, an opportunity to see
outlandish places and people was no small inducement. I have my full
share of curiosity and love of adventure; I want, too, to know the
people I am among; and that is impossible, without speaking their
language."
"But I think you are misdirecting your efforts, and wasting your
time," said L'Isle. "The Spanish will be of more permanent value, and
almost equally useful here on the frontier. The one is a language
widely spread and a noble one. The other, though exceedingly well
adapted to conversation, has but a narrow range, and may one day be
merged in the superior tongue. The literature of the Spanish, too, is
the richer, though both are poor enough."
"I am glad to hear you say that; for I have already made some little
progress in Spanish. I have read a few books, and moulded my tongue to
the utterance of a long list of conversational phrases. I would now
gladly exchange my French for Spanish or Portuguese. What a pity it
is, that the languages of different countries are not, like their
coins, exchangeable one for another."
"Unfortunately," said L'Isle, laughing, "that exchange is a slow
process; and exact equivalents are seldom found."
"It is too provoking," continued Lady Mabel, "after having been at so
much pains to learn French, not to be at liberty to go to France, to
show the natives how well I can speak their tongue. True, I have
access to their books, which are, perhaps, better than themselves."
"That is not saying much for their books," said L'Isle contemptuously.
"Their literature is much overvalued. Its chief merits are variety and
bulk."
"Do you think so? That is not the opinion I have heard expressed."
"Very true. The world is full of false opinions and bad taste. But a
literature, whose great epic poem is the _Henriade_, may be abundant
but cannot be rich. A language, in which you cannot make verse without
the jingle of rhyme, may be clear and copious, but is wanting in
melody and force. Take away from French literature Gil Blas and the
_memoires_, and were all the rest lost, its place might be easily
filled with something better. With these exceptions, there is little
worth doing into English or any other tongue. And after all, Gil Blas
is only a renegade Spaniard in a French uniform; and, undoubtedly, it
is not genius, but merely their intense vanity and egotism, that
enables them to excel in writing their own memoirs. Besides, unlike
most other people, their books are as immoral as themselves."
"Well," said Lady Mabel, looking at him in some surprise, yet half
convinced of the truth of what he had been saying. "It must certainly
be a great comfort to you to entertain so thorough a contempt and
dislike for the people you have to fight against."
"Perhaps it is," said L'Isle, laughing at her observation and his own
warmth. "It may not be in the spirit of Christianity or of chivalry,
but it is exceedingly true to our nature, to dislike our enemies, and
heartily, too. But to return to our subject. You wish to learn
Spanish, and I can provide you a capable and zealous teacher."
"I am much obliged to you; where is he to be found?"
"I will bring him here, any day and hour you may appoint."
"Then I will fix an early hour, and take a lesson every day."
"The truth is," said L'Isle, hesitating and somewhat confused, "it is
very difficult to find a Spaniard who speaks English well enough to
teach you his own tongue."
"But you said just now that would find me such a master."
"But not a Spaniard. I hear," said L'Isle, putting a bold face on the
matter, "that several of my brother officers have been permitted to
make themselves useful to you in various capacities. For instance, on
looking round this room, I see more than one achievement of Captain
Cranfield's, and hear that Major Lumley's skill in music has been
called into play. Now I am behind no one in zeal for your service."
"So you, yourself, are the Spanish master, whom you, yourself, would
recommend?"
"I assure you I do not know where to find another."
"Your offer is exceedingly tempting," said Lady Mabel, bowing
ironically low. "But I am too much in debt already to the gentlemen in
his majesty's service. To turn one of his colonels into my Spanish
master would be seriously to misemploy his precious time. I would feel
that I was robbing my country. Is it not positive treason to aid and
abet the king's enemies? Then it is negative treason, to divert from
his service any of the king's friends."
"But you forget that I am an invalid, not yet fit for duty."
"You are getting more fit for it every day. My invalid tutor would
become a sound colonel long before I had made much progress under his
tuition."
"But I would not object to relaxing from my military duties, and
prolonging my invalid condition in your service."
"Let me beg that you do no such thing, but hasten to get so well as to
forget your wounds, and the awkward occasion on which you received
them."
"Why," said L'Isle, in some surprise, "what have you heard of that
occasion?"
"Perhaps you, like some other people, do not care to be reminded of
your blunders," said Lady Mabel, mischievously.
"Blunders?" said L'Isle, "I do not see how a soldier can avoid
exposing himself occasionally to the risk of being shot, sabred, or
bayoneted. What blunder of mine have you heard of?"
"Merely that on the approach of a French column, you, instead of
rejoining the main body, in great alarm hid yourself and your men in a
little Spanish village too mean to have a name. The French found you
out, and kept you shut up there in great trepidation for five or six
hours, while they were cutting away your barricades, beating in the
doors, and tearing off the roofs of the houses. Your case was as
desperate as that of a rat in a trap; and when your friends came to
your relief, they had to knock a great many of the French in the head
before they could persuade them to let you slip out. But, by some
lucky misunderstanding at headquarters, you were soon after made a
lieut. colonel."
"Do you know," said L'Isle, laughing, "that this is, to me, quite a
new version of that little affair? Did you hear whether we did the
French any damage, while they beset us so closely?"
"Nothing was said on that score. So I suppose you did them little
harm."
"It is lucky for me that your informant had not the reporting of this
affair at headquarters."
"It is said that you had that more adroitly done by your own friends."
"They give me credit at least for good diplomacy," said L'Isle. "Or,
at all events, it is a good thing to have a friend at court--that is,
at the elbow of the commander-in-chief. And it seems that I have one
there. But still you make a great mistake in declining my services as
a teacher of the Spanish tongue. I may be a blundering soldier, but
have made myself thoroughly master of the languages of the Peninsula,
and have a decided aptitude for teaching. Let me begin by warning you
against a blunder we English always commit, in trying to speak a
tongue not our own, with the mouth half open, and the hands in the
pockets. Now, when you address a foreigner in his own tongue, speak
with much noise and vociferation, opening your mouth wide and using
much action. The ideas you cannot convey in words, you must
communicate by gesticulation, the more emphatic the better."
"What!" said Lady Mabel. "Would you have me go scolding and
gesticulating at every foreign fellow I meet with, and become
notorious throughout Elvas as the British virago?"
"There is no danger of that," said L'Isle. "They would only say that
you have as much vivacity as a native, and soon begin to understand
you."
"I have made the acquaintance of some ladies of Elvas. As yet our
intercourse has been limited to a few formal visits, and a few set
phrases mingled with pantomime. But some of them are disposed to be
very sociable, and, through their teaching, I hope to be able soon to
bear my part in the most sprightly and sentimental conversation. You
shall see what an apt scholar I am under the tuition of my own sex."
"I trust you will be on your guard against cultivating too great an
intimacy with these people," said L'Isle. "You do not know what
Portuguese and Spanish ladies are."
"What are they?"
"A thorough knowledge of them would only satisfy you that they are
gross in language, particularly the Spaniards, indelicate in their
habits, careless of propriety, lax in morals, and, with all their
grace, vivacity, and elegance, very unfit companions for you. In
short, the purity of mind, true refinement of manners, and scrupulous
propriety of conduct we look for in a lady, are almost unknown among
them."
"What a shocking picture you paint of our friends here. You must know
them exceedingly well," added Lady Mabel, in innocent surprise, "to
justify your abusing them so roundly."
"By report--only by report," said L'Isle hastily.
"But I have had many opportunities of judging of the grossness of
their conversation and manners. The Portuguese ladies are not gross in
language, like the Spaniards; but are quite on a par with them in
essentials, or rather the want of essentials."
"They are not at all indebted to your report, which has used them very
roughly. You, perhaps, have been unfortunate in the samples you have
met with; and, at least, do not know my new friends here in Elvas."
"I confess that I do not."
"Yet I must own that you have damped my ardor to cultivate an intimacy
with them. Yet such is the situation of the two or three of our own
ladies here, that these allies of ours afford the only female society
at my command."
"In that respect your situation here must seem very strange to you."
"Strange, indeed, at first--but now I am getting accustomed to it. I
begin to feel as if I held an official position in the brigade. I
make great progress in knowledge of military affairs--am quite
familiar, as you may perceive, with the details of the last campaign,
and begin to understand both the technical language and the slang of
our comrades; who give me plenty of their company, and right merry
companions they are. But, perhaps," said she, looking at him
doubtingly, "you may be able to understand me, and excuse my weakness,
when I confess that there is still so much of the woman left in me
that I do often long to slam the door in the face of the brigade, and
have a good long confidential chat with some of my own sex."
"The want of that must be a sad privation to you."
"My only resource now is to get old Moodie and Jennie Aiken, my maid,
together, and have a good home talk with them, which, for the time,
may blot out the map of Portugal, and carry us back to Scotland."
"After that avowal," said L'Isle, rising from his chair, "I had better
not trespass on you longer, lest I should have the door slammed in my
face the next time I visit you." And he bowed and put an end to his
visit.
As he rode homeward, he again brought Lord Strathern to trial, and
soon found a verdict against him, of utter incapacity to take charge
of such a daughter as heaven had blessed him with. L'Isle felt
strongly tempted to take the vacant guardianship upon himself--but did
not see just then how it was to be brought about.
He was buried in these thoughts when the sound of horses' feet aroused
him; and looking up he saw Lord Strathern riding down toward him from
the city gate, followed by a party of young officers. His lordship
drew up as he approached, and said: "L'Isle, I am glad to see you look
so much like taking the field again. Why, your ride has actually
brought a color into your cheeks." In truth, L'Isle had turned
somewhat red on seeing suddenly before him the very man he had just
been condemning in secret tribunal. "We cannot let you play invalid
much longer," his lordship continued. "We begin to miss you sadly. By
the by, I have just been inspecting the troops. Their condition is not
exactly what I would wish. But the less we say about the
matter--only--I am glad the French are not just now in the
neighborhood."
"But they have not told us how long they meant to stay away,"
suggested L'Isle.
"We won't see them soon, however," said his lordship carelessly.
"Well, L'Isle, I will begin to put you on duty by having you to dine
with me to-morrow. These noisy fellows I have with me to-day would be
too much for your nerves. We will have a quieter party, and I will not
insist on your doing your full turn of duty at the bottle."
"I will obey you, my lord, with the greatest pleasure, particularly as
you are so considerate as to the bottle. I have just been paying my
respects, for the first time, to Lady Mabel."
"Well, if you did not bore her by the length of your visit--a thing
she sometimes complains of--she will be glad to see you again
to-morrow." And Lord Strathern rode off--with a merry party at his
heels.