IN WHICH SIR ASINUS MAKES AS IGNOMINIOUS RETREAT.
Sir Asinus was apparently in high spirits, and smoothed the nap of his
cocked hat with his sleeve--the said sleeve being of Mecklenburg
silk--in a way which indicated the summit of felicity.
He seemed to inhale the May morning joyously after his late
imprisonment; and he betook himself immediately to paying assiduous
court to Miss Belle-bouche, who, the sooth to say, did not seem
ill-disposed to get rid of Jacques.
Poor Jacques, therefore, made an unsuccessful attempt to engage
Philippa in conversation. This failing--for Philippa was watching
Mowbray disappearing toward Williamsburg--the melancholy Jacques made
friends with the lap-dog, who at first was propitious, but ended by
snapping at his fingers.
"A delightful day, my dear madam," he said to Philippa, once more
endeavoring to open an account current of conversation.
Philippa, with bent brows, made no reply.
"The birds are having a charming time, it seems."
Poor Jacques! Philippa is buried in thought, and with her eyes fixed
on the receding horseman, does not hear him.
"You seem preoccupied, madam," he said.
"Yes, a charming day, sir," she said, rising; "did you say it was
pleasant? I agree with you. If I dared!" she added to herself, "if I
only dared! But what do I not dare!"
And she abruptly left the room, to the profound astonishment of
Jacques, who sat gazing after her with wide-extended eyes.
"I told you he was in love with her, my dear Miss Belle-bouche, since
you say that will in future be your name--it is either with you or
Madam Philippa."
These words were uttered in a confidential whisper to Belle-bouche by
Sir Asinus, who was leaning forward gracefully in a tall carven-backed
chair toward his companion, who reposed luxuriously upon an ottoman
covered with damask, and ornamented _quoad_ the legs with satyr heads.
Belle-bouche suffered her glance to follow that of her companion.
Jacques was indeed, as we have said, gazing after the lady who had
just departed, and for this purpose had opened his eyes to their
greatest possible width. He resembled a china mandarin in the costume
of Louis Quatorze.
"Am I mistaken?" said Sir Asinus.
Belle-bouche sighed.
"A plain case: he is even now saying to himself, my dear Miss
Belle-bouche,
'Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus
Jam cari capitis----'
which means, 'How can I make up my mind to see you go up stairs?'"
Belle-bouche cast a tender glance at Jacques. Sir Asinus continued:
"Yes, yes, I see you pity him. But you should pity me."
"Why?"
"Your watch-paper--you remember; the one which you cut for me?"
"Yes."
"Well, last night I placed my watch on my window--before retiring, you
know; and in the night," continued Sir Asinus, "it commenced
raining----"
"That was last night?"
"Yes, Madam Belle-bouche. Well, the roof leaked, and presto! when I
rose I found my watch swimming in water--your watch-paper all soaked
and torn--that is to say, my fingers tore it; and a dozen minuets I
had bought for you shared the same fate, not to mention my
jemmy-worked garters! My ill luck was complete--_me miserum_!"
"Was it at college?"
"Oh no," said Sir Asinus; "you know I am temporarily absent from the
_Alma Mater_."
"Indeed!"
"Yes. I have taken up my residence in town--in Gloucester street,
where I am always happy to see my friends. Just imagine a man
persecuted by the professors of the great University of William and
Mary for the reason I was."
"What was it?"
"Because I uttered some heresies. I said the Established Church was a
farce, and that women, contrary to the philosophy of antiquity, really
had souls. The great Doctor could pardon my fling at the church; but
being an old woman himself, could not pardon my even seeming to revive
the discussion of the heresy in relation to your sex. What was the
consequence? I had to flee--the enemy went about to destroy me; behold
me now the denizen of a second floor in old Mother Bobbery's house,
Gloucester street, city of Williamsburg."
"Rusticating you call it, I think," says Belle-bouche, smiling
languidly, and raising her brow to catch the faint May breeze which
moves her curls.
"Yes; rusticating is the very word--derived from _rus_, a Latin word
signifying _main street_, and _tike_, a Greek word meaning to _live in
bachelor freedom_. It applies to me exactly, you see. I live in
bachelor freedom on Gloucester street, and I only want a wife to make
my happiness complete."
Belle-bouche smiles.
"You are then dissatisfied?" she says.
"Yes," sighs Sir Asinus; "yes, in spite of my pipes and books and
pictures, and all appliances and means to boot for happiness, I am
lonely. Now suppose I had a charming little wife--a paragon of a wife,
with blue eyes and golden curls, and a sweet languishing air, to chat
with in the long days and gloomy evenings!"
Belle-bouche recognises her portrait, and smiles.
Sir Asinus continues:
"Not only would I be happier, but more at my ease. To tell you the
humiliating truth, my dear Miss Belle-bouche, I am in hourly fear of
being arrested."
"Would a wife prevent that?"
"Certainly. What base proctor would dare lay hands upon a married man?
But this all disappears like a vision--it is a dream: _fuit Ilium,
ingens gloria Teucrorumque_; which means, 'Mrs. Tom is still in a
state of single blessedness,' that being the literal translation of
the Hebrew."
And Sir Asinus smiles; and seeing Jacques approach, looks at him
triumphantly.
Jacques has just been bitten by the lap dog; and this, added to his
melancholy and jealousy, causes him to feel desolate.
"Pardon my interrupting your pleasant conversation," he says.
"Oh, no interruption!" says Sir Asinus triumphantly.
"But I thought I'd mention----
"Speak out, speak out!" says Sir Asinus, shaking with laughter, and
assuming a generous and noble air.
"I observed through the window a visitor, fairest Belinda."
"Ah! I was so closely engaged," says Sir Asinus, "like a knight of the
middle ages, I thought only of my 'ladye faire.' Nothing can move me
from her side!"
"Indeed?" says Jacques.
"Nothing!"
"Well, well, at least I have not counselled such desertion on your
part. The visitor at the gate there is Doctor Small from college. I
only thought I'd mention it!"
Like an electric shock dart the words of Jacques through the frame of
the chivalric Sir Asinus. He starts to his feet--gazes around him
despairingly, seeking a place of refuge.
The step of worthy Doctor Small is heard upon the portico; Sir Asinus
quakes.
"Are you unwell, my dear friend?" asks Jacques with melancholy
interest.
"I am--really--come, Jacques!" stammers Sir Asinus.
"Are you indisposed?"
"To meet the Doctor? I rather think I am. Mercy! mercy! dear _Campana
in die_," cries the knight; "hide me! hide me!--up stairs, down
stairs--any where!"
The footstep sounded in the passage.
Belle-bouche laughed with that musical contagious merriment which
characterized her.
"But what shall we say?" she asks; "I can't tell the Doctor you are
not here."
"Then I must go. Can I escape? Oh heavens! there is his shadow on the
floor! Jacques, my boy, protect my memory--I must retire!"
And Sir Asinus rushed through the open door leading into the adjoining
room, just as Doctor Small entered with his benevolent smile and
courteous inclination.
He had been informed in town, he said, that his young friend Thomas,
withdrawn now some days from college, was at Shadynook; and taking
advantage of his acquaintance with Mrs. Wimple, and he was happy to
add with Miss Rebecca, he had come to find and have some friendly
conversation with Thomas. Had he been at Shadynook, or was he
misinformed?
The reply was easy. Sir Asinus had disappeared through a door leading
into the garden some moments before, and Belle-bouche could reply most
truthfully--as she did--that the truant _had_ visited her that
morning, but was gone.
The worthy Doctor smiled, and said no more.
He exchanged a few words on the pleasant weather--smiled benevolently
on the young girl--and with a sly glance asked Jacques if he designed
attending lecture that morning.
The melancholy Jacques hesitated: a look from Belle-bouche would have
caused him to reply that he regretted exceedingly his inability to
honor his Alma Mater on that particular occasion; but unfortunately
the young girl said nothing. Was she afraid of a second private
interview, wherein the subject should be crooks and shepherdesses,
and the hopes of Corydons? At all events, Belle-bouche played with her
lace cuff, and her countenance wore nothing more than its habitual
faint smile.
Jacques heaved a sigh, and said he believed he ought to go.
The Doctor rose, and pressing Belle-bouche's hand, kindly took his
leave--followed by Jacques, who cast a last longing, lingering look
behind.
As for Sir Asinus, we regret to speak of him. Where were now all his
chivalric thoughts--his noble resolutions--his courage and devotion to
his lady fair? Alas! humanity is weak: we are compelled to say that
the heroic knight, the ardent lover, the iron-hearted rebel, suddenly
changed his device, and took for his crest a lion no longer, only a
hare.
From the back room he emerged into the garden, quaking at every sound;
once in the garden, he stole ignominiously along the hedge; then he
sallied forth into the road; then he mounted his horse, and fled like
the wind.