Charlemont; Or, The Pride of the Village. a Tale of KentuckySimms, William Gilmore
General
Charlemont; Or, The Pride of the Village. a Tale of Kentucky
Simms, William Gilmore
Kentucky -- Fiction
This speech made our adventurer elevate his eyebrows. He absolutely
stopped short to look upon the speaker. William Hinkley stopped short
also. His eye encountered that of Stevens with an expression as full of
defiance as firmness. His cheeks glowed with the generous indignation
which filled his veins.
“This fellow has something in him after all,” was the involuntary
reflection that rose to the other's mind. The effect was, however,
not very beneficial to his own manner. Instead of having the effect of
impressing upon Stevens the necessity of working cautiously, the show
of defiance which he saw tended to provoke and annoy him. The youth had
displayed so much propriety in his anger, had been so moderate as
well as firm, and had uttered his answer with so much dignity and
correctness, that he felt himself rebuked. To be encountered by an
unsophisticated boy, and foiled, though but for an instant--slightly
estimated, though but by a youth, and him too, a mere rustic--was
mortifying to the self-esteem that rather precipitately hurried to
resent it.
“You take it seriously, Mr. Hinkley. But surely an offer of service
need not be mistaken. As for the trifling difference which may be in
our years, that is perhaps nothing to the difference which may be in our
experience, our knowledge of the world, our opportunities and studies.”
“Surely, sir; all these MAY be, but at all events we are not bound to
assume their existence until it is shown.”
“Oh, you are likely to prove an adept in the law, Mr. Hinkley.”
“I trust, sir, that your progress may be as great in the church.”
“Ha!--do I understand you? There is war between us then?” said Stevens,
watching the animated and speaking countenance of William Hinkley with
increasing curiosity.
“Ay, sir--there is!” was the spirited reply of the youth. “Let it be
war; I am the better pleased, sir, that you are the first to proclaim
it.”
“Very good,” said Stevens, “be it so, if you will. At all events you can
have no objection to say why it should be so.”
“Do you ask, sir?”
“Surely; for I can not guess.”
“You are less sagacious, then, than I had fancied you. You, scarce
older than myself--a stranger among us--come to me in the language of a
father, or a master, and without asking what I have of feeling, or
what I lack of sense, undertake deliberately to wound the one, while
insolently presuming to inform the other.”
“At the request of your own mother!”
“Pshaw! what man of sense or honesty would urge such a plea. Years, and
long intimacy, and wisdom admitted to be superior, could alone justify
the presumption.”
The cheeks of Stevens became scalding hot.
“Young man!” he exclaimed, “there is something more than this!”
“What! would it need more were our positions reversed?” demanded Hinkley
with a promptness that surprised himself.
“Perhaps not! would you provoke me to personal violence?”
“Ha! might I hope for that? surely you forget that you are a churchman?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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