Arthur O'Leary: His Wanderings And Ponderings In Many LandsLever, Charles
General
Arthur O'Leary: His Wanderings And Ponderings In Many Lands
Lever, Charles
Fiction
‘“Never injured me!” cried Van Halsdt. “Is it nothing that you have
ruined me for ever; that your cowardice to resent an affront offered to
one who should have been dearer than your life, a hundred times told,
should have involved me in a duel with a man I swore never to meet,
never to cross swords nor exchange a shot with? Is it nothing that I am
to be disgraced by my king, disinherited by my father--a beggar and an
exile at once? Is it nothing, sir, that the oldest name of Friesland is
to be blotted from the nobles of his nation? Is it nothing that for you
I should be _what I now am?_”
‘The last words were uttered in a voice that made Norvins, very blood
run cold; but he could not speak, he could not mutter a word in answer.
‘“What!” said Van Halsdt, in an accent of cutting sarcasm, “I thought
that perhaps in the suddenness of the moment your courage, unprepared
for an unexpected call, might not have stood your part; but can it be
true that you are a coward? Is this the case?”
‘Norvins hung down his head; the sickness of death was on him. The
dreadful pause was broken at last; it was Van Halsdt who spoke--
‘“Adieu, sir; I grieve for you. I hope we may never meet again; yet let
me give you a counsel ere we part. There is but one coat men can wear
with impunity when they carry a malevolent and a craven spirit; you can
be a------“’
‘Monsieur l’Abbé, the dinner is on the table,’ said a servant, entering
at this moment of the story.
‘_Ma foi_, and so it is,’ said he, looking gaily at his watch, as he
rose from his chair.
‘But mademoiselle,’ said I, ‘what became of her?’
‘Ah, Marguerite: she was married to Van Halsdt in less than three
months. The cuirassier fortunately recovered from his wounds; the duel
was shown to be a thing forced by the stress of consequences. As for Van
Halsdt, the king forgave him, and he is now ambassador at Naples.’
‘And the other, Norvins?--though I scarcely feel any interest in him.’
‘I’m sorry for it,’ said he, laughing; ‘but won’t you move forward?’
With that he made me a polite bow to precede him towards the dinner-
room, and followed me with the jaunty step and the light gesture of an
easy and contented nature.
I need scarcely say that I did not sit next the abbé that day at dinner;
on the contrary, I selected the most stupid-looking old man I could find
for my neighbour, hugging myself in the thought, that, where there is
little agreeability, Nature may kindly have given in recompense some
traits of honesty and some vestiges of honour. Indeed, such a disgust
did I feel for the amusing features of the pleasantest part of the
company, and so inextricably did I connect repartee with rascality, that
I trembled at every good thing I heard, and stole away early to bed,
resolving never to take sudden fancies to agreeable people as long as I
lived--an oath which a long residence in a certain country that shall be
nameless happily permits me to keep, with little temptation to
transgress.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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