Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
Conscious that all this time they were objects of some curious
attention on the part of the nearest company, he thought it well now
to subdue his voice, and affect a nonchalant manner.
“Mr. Kit,” said he, in an undertone, “you will hardly continue, in
face of that confession, your pretence of innocence, nor, by denying
me the satisfaction I demand here and now, force me to the necessity
of whipping you, like the hound you are, in public. There are level
spaces in the wildernesses beyond, and something of a rising moon,
sufficient for the business we have in hand. Will you walk with me,
sir--or----”
“Without admitting anything,” said his Highness, very haughty and
wroth, “or condescending to further remonstrance, I answer to your
effrontery as it deserves. It must be chastised, at whatever cost to
the truth. Follow me, sir,” and he stalked off in high choler.
He was horribly perplexed, nevertheless, though for the moment so
offended as half to mean the bellicosity he threatened. But reflection
soon cooled him of that temper, and he recognized that, if nothing
else intervened, there would be no alternative for him but to make
himself known, at the critical pass, to his adversary.
The two gentlemen disappeared in the direction of the thickets.
And so, leaving them, we will return to Hamilton and _his_ green bow.
The harper harped his sweetest, and the lady stood and listened
entranced. She seemed as one fascinated, half hypnotized, oblivious of
the soft reproaches her companion kept whispering in her ear. She paid
no heed whatever to his babble, but always her gaze was fixed on the
long swaying form of the musician and the melancholy-wrapt eyes of
him, lost, like her own, to all outer influences and impressions, and
wholly absorbed in the visions conjured up of his unconscious soul.
And when at length he ended on a triumphant chord, she sighed, and
seemed to come awake, and, first joining in the applause with her
little hands, plucked off her vizard, being quite carried away by her
feelings, and, waving it in the air, cried “Brava!” in a manner to
make the people about her laugh.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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