Second to None: A Military Romance, Volume 1 (of 3) — John Shaqi
Second to None: A Military Romance, Volume 1 (of 3)Grant, James
General
Second to None: A Military Romance, Volume 1 (of 3)
Grant, James
Soldiers -- Fiction
"As the night has become so dark, madam," said I, "you must allow me
to have the honour of escorting you to town. You have still to pass
Clapham Common, and its reputation for safety is somewhat
indifferent. Even in Lambeth I have heard that robberies have been
frequent of late."
"But how can we trespass so far upon your kindness, sir?" urged the
young lady, whose voice made my heart beat faster.
"Believe me, madam, I deem it a great honour and happiness to have
been of service to you, and for to-night, at least, your way shall be
mine. I am pretty well mounted, and very well armed."
"Fortunately, you are also proceeding to London," said her mother;
"therefore I accept your polite offer with gratitude."
I bowed nearly to my horse's mane, and then said to the valet--
"Hand up that blunderbuss, John; it may serve as a trophy, and remind
your lady of to-night's engagement on Wandsworth Common."
"And the three fingers--oh--ugh?" asked John, with chattering teeth.
"Those you may pocket, if you please," said I, while withdrawing the
charge, which, as I have said, proved to be slugs. I put the weapon
in the rumble, and then the carriage was driven off.
As it rolled over the dark heath, I rode at a quick trot behind it;
but frequently, when our pace became slower as we ascended a slope
and the horses walked, the ladies conversed with me, and then I rode
abreast of the open windows.
It was evident that by being muffled in my trooper's cloak, and
having on a small foraging cap, I was taken for an officer; thus the
elder lady gave me her card, and expressed, in the usual polite
terms, the delight it would afford them to see me at their residence
in some modish square (I failed to catch the name), if I had leisure
to-morrow morning, as they had to leave town again at mid-day.
I felt piqued, and an emotion somewhat of bitterness and
mortification stole into my heart; and while secretly cursing alike
the rules of society and my own false position, I thanked her for the
kind invitation, but without the least intention of availing myself
of it. After this, I became a little reserved; but it was a
difficult task to be so with the young lady, who was a lovely girl,
and lively too. She conversed with me gaily, and asked if I longed
for foreign service; if I thought the war would be protracted; if we
were sure to beat the French; if I was not afraid--she begged pardon
for such a silly question--of being shot in battle; and a hundred
other pretty nothings, while her sweet face and sparkling eyes seemed
to come out of the gloom of the travelling carriage, and then to fade
into it again, as we passed an occasional dim street-lamp, all of
which in those by-gone days I need scarcely say were lighted by oil.
At the bridge of Westminster, which had been built about ten years
before, I bade them adieu, and with something like a sigh of regret,
departed in search of some humble hostelry wherein to pass the night.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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