THE ELOPEMENT.
It was past two o'clock when I reached the town. On entering the
barrack-yard, I perceived a large group of officers chatting together,
and every moment breaking into immoderate fits of laughter. I went over,
and immediately learned the source of their mirth, which was this: No
sooner had it been known that Fitzgerald was about to go to a distance,
on a professional call, than a couple of young officers laid their heads
together, and wrote an anonymous note to Mrs. Fitz. who was the very
dragon of jealousy, informing her, that her husband had feigned the whole
history of the patient and consultation as an excuse for absenting
himself on an excursion of gallantry; and that if she wished to satisfy
herself of the truth of the statement, she had only to follow him in the
morning, and detect his entire scheme; the object of these amiable
friends being to give poor Mrs. Fitz. a twenty miles' jaunt, and confront
her with her injured husband at the end of it.
Having a mind actively alive to suspicions of this nature, the worthy
woman made all her arrangements for a start, and scarcely was the chaise
and four, with her husband, out of the town, than was she on the track of
it, with a heart bursting with jealousy, and vowing vengeance to the
knife, against all concerned in this scheme to wrong her.
So far the plan of her persecutors had perfectly succeeded; they saw her
depart, on a trip of, as they supposed, twenty miles, and their whole
notions of the practical joke were limited to the eclaircissement that
must ensue at the end. Little, however, were they aware how much more
nearly the suspected crime, was the position of the poor doctor to turn
out; for, as by one blunder I had taken his chaise, so he, without any
inquiry whatever, had got into the one intended for me; and never awoke
from a most refreshing slumber, till shaken by the shoulder by the
postillion, who whispered in his ear--"here we are sir; this is the
gate."
"But why stop at the gate? Drive up the avenue, my boy."
"His honor told me, sir, not for the world to go farther than the lodge;
nor to make as much noise as a mouse."
"Ah! very true. He may be very irritable, poor man! Well stop here, and
I'll get out."
Just as the doctor had reached the ground, a very smart-looking soubrette
tripped up, and said to him--
"Beg pardon, sir; but you are the gentleman from the barrack, sir?"
"Yes, my dear," said Fitz., with a knowing look at the pretty face of the
damsel, "what can I do for you?"
"Why sir, my mistress is here in the shrubbery; but she is so nervous,
and so frightened, I don't know how she'll go through it."
"Ah! she's frightened, poor thing; is she? Oh! she must keep up her
spirits, while there's life there's hope."
"Sir."
"I say, my darling, she must not give way. I'll speak to her a little.
Is not he rather advanced in life?"
"Oh, Lord! no sir. Only two-and-thirty, my mistress tells me?"
"Two-and-thirty! Why I thought he was above sixty."
"Above sixty! Law! sir. You have a bright fancy. This is the
gentleman, ma'am. Now sir, I'll just slip aside for a moment, and let
you talk to her."
"I am grieved, ma'am, that I have not the happiness to make your
acquaintance under happier circumstances."
"I must confess, sir--though I am ashamed"--
"Never be ashamed, ma'am. Your grief, although, I trust causeless, does
you infinite honor."
"Upon my soul she is rather pretty," said the doctor to himself here.
"Well, sir! as I have the most perfect confidence in you, from all I have
heard of you, I trust you will not think me abrupt in saying that any
longer delay here is dangerous."
"Dangerous! Is he in so critical a state as that then?"
"Critical a state, sir! Why what do you mean?"
"I mean, ma'am, do you think, then, it must be done to-day?"
"Of course I do, sir, and I shall never leave the spot without your
assuring me of it."
"Oh! in that case make your mind easy. I have the instruments in the
chaise."
"The instruments in the chaise! Really, sir, if you are not jesting--I
trust you don't think this is a fitting time for such--I entreat of you
to speak more plainly and intelligibly."
"Jesting, ma'am! I'm incapable of jesting at such a moment."
"Ma'am! ma'am! I see one of the rangers, ma'am, at a distance; so don't
lose a moment, but get into the chaise at once."
"Well, sir, let us away; for I have now gone too far to retract."
"Help my mistress into the chaise, sir. Lord! what a man it is."
A moment more saw the poor doctor seated beside the young lady, while the
postillions plied whip and spur with their best energy; and the road flew
beneath them. Meanwhile the delay caused by this short dialogue, enabled
Mrs. Fitz.'s slower conveyance to come up with the pursuit, and her
chaise had just turned the angle of the road as she caught a glimpse of a
muslin dress stepping into the carriage with her husband.
There are no words capable of conveying the faintest idea of the feelings
that agitated Mrs. Fitz. at this moment. The fullest confirmation to her
worst fears was before her eyes--just at the very instant when a doubt
was beginning to cross over her mind that it might have been merely a
hoax that was practised on her, and that the worthy Doctor was innocent
and blameless. As for the poor Doctor himself, there seemed little
chance of his being enlightened as to the real state of matters; for from
the moment the young lady had taken her place in the chaise, she had
buried her face in her hands, and sobbed continually. Meanwhile he
concluded that they were approaching the house by some back entrance, to
avoid noise and confusion, and waited, with due patience, for the
journey's end.
As, however, her grief continued unabated, Fitz. at length began to think
of the many little consolatory acts he had successfully practised in his
professional career, and was just insinuating some very tender speech on
the score of resignation, with his head inclined towards the weeping lady
beside him, when the chaise of Mrs. Fitz. came up along-side, and the
postillions having yielded to the call to halt, drew suddenly up,
displaying to the enraged wife the tableau we have mentioned.
"So, wretch," she screamed rather than spoke, "I have detected you at
last."
"Lord bless me! Why it is my wife."
"Yes, villain! your injured, much-wronged wife! And you, madam, may I
ask what you have to say for thus eloping with a married man?"
"Shame! My dear Jemima," said Fitz. "how can you possibly permit your
foolish jealousy so far to blind your reason. Don't you see I am going
upon a professional call?"
"Oh! you are. Are you? Quite professional, I'll be bound."
"Oh, sir! Oh, madam! I beseech you, save me from the anger of my
relatives, and the disgrace of exposure. Pray bring me back at once."
"Why, my God! ma'am, what do you mean? You are not gone mad, as well as
my wife."
"Really, Mr. Fitz." said Mrs. F. "this is carrying the joke too far.
Take your unfortunate victim--as I suppose she is such--home to her
parents, and prepare to accompany me to the barrack; and if there be law
and justice in--"
"Well! may the Lord in his mercy preserve my senses, or you will both
drive me clean mad."
"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" sobbed the young lady, while Mrs. Fitzgerald
continued to upbraid at the top of her voice, heedless of the disclaimers
and protestations of innocence poured out with the eloquence of despair,
by the poor doctor. Matters were in this state, when a man dressed in a
fustian jacket, like a groom, drove up to the side of the road, in a
tax-cart; he immediately got down, and tearing open the door of the
doctor's chaise, lifted out the young lady, and deposited her safely in
his own conveyance, merely adding--
"I say, master, you're in luck this morning, that Mr. William took the
lower road; for if he had come up with you instead of me, he'd blow the
roof off your scull, that's all."
While these highly satisfactory words were being addressed to poor Fitz.
Mrs. Fitzgerald had removed from her carriage to that of her husband,
perhaps preferring four horses to two; or perhaps she had still some
unexplained views of the transaction, which might as well be told on the
road homeward.
Whatever might have been the nature of Mrs. F.'s dissertation, nothing is
known. The chaise containing these turtle doves arrived late at night at
Kilkenny, and Fitz. was installed safely in his quarters before any one
knew of his having come back. The following morning he was reported ill;
and for three weeks he was but once seen, and at that time only at his
window, with a flannel night-cap on his head, looking particularly pale,
and rather dark under one eye.
As for Curzon--the last thing known of him that luckless morning, was his
hiring a post-chaise for the Royal Oak, from whence he posted to Dublin,
and hastened on to England. In a few days we learned that the adjutant
had exchanged into a regiment in Canada; and to this hour there are not
three men in the __th who know the real secret of that morning's
misadventures.
EBOOK EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
Air of one who seeks to consume than enjoy his time
Always a pleasure felt in the misfortunes of even our best friend
Chew over the cud of his misfortune
Daily association sustains the interest of the veriest trifles
Dear, dirty Dublin--Io te salute
Every misfortune has an end at last
Fighting like devils for conciliation
Half pleased and whole frightened with the labour before him
Hating each other for the love of God
He first butthers them up, and then slithers them down
He was very much disguised in drink
Least important functionaries took the greatest airs upon them
Might almost excite compassion even in an enemy
Misfortune will find you out, if ye were hid in a tay chest
Profoundly and learnedly engaged in discussing medicine
Rather a dabbler in the "ologies"
Recovered as much of their senses as the wine had left them
Seems ever to accompany dullness a sustaining power of vanity
The tone of assumed compassion