Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
But the gloom of the marquis seemed to have vanished with the breaking
of the storm, as the outburst of the lightning takes the weight off head
and heart that has for days been gathering. True, when his house began
to fall, he would look for a moment grave at each successive rumble, but
the next he would smile and nod his head, as if all was just as he had
expected and would have it. One day when sir Toby Mathews and Dr. Bayly
happened both to be with him in his study, an ancient stack of chimneys
tumbled with tremendous uproar into the stone court. The two clergymen
started visibly, and then looked at each other with pallid faces. But
the marquis smiled, kept the silence for an instant, and then, in slow
solemn voice, said:
'Scimus enim quoniam si terrestris domus nomus nostra hujus habitationis
dissolvatur, quod aedificationem ex Deo habemus, domum non manufactam,
aeternam in coelis.'
The clergymen grasped each other by the hand, then turning bowed
together to the marquis, but the conversation was not resumed.
One evening in the drawing-room, after supper, the marquis, in good
spirits, and for him in good health, was talking more merrily than
usual. Lady Glamorgan stood near him in the window. The captain of the
garrison was giving a spirited description of a sally they had made the
night before upon colonel Morgan in his quarters at Llandenny, and sir
Rowland was vowing that come of it what might, leave or no leave, he
would ride the next time, when crash went something in the room, the
marquis put his hand to his head, and the countess fled in terror,
crying, 'O Lord! O Lord!' A bullet had come through the window, knocked
a little marble pillar belonging to it in fragments on the floor, and
glancing from it, struck the marquis on the side of the head. The
countess, finding herself unhurt, ran no farther than the door.
'I ask your pardon, my lord, for my rudeness,' she said, with trembling
voice, as she came slowly back. 'But indeed, ladies,' she added, 'I
thought the house was coming down.--You gentlemen, who know not what
fear is, I pray you to forgive me, for I was mortally frightened.'
'Daughter, you had reason to run away, when your father was knocked on
the head,' said the marquis.
He put his finger on the flattened bullet where it had fallen on the
table, and turning it round and round, was silent for a moment evidently
framing aright something he wanted to say. Then with the pretence that
the bullet had been flattened upon his head,
'Gentlemen,' he remarked, 'those who had a mind to flatter me were wont
to tell me that I had a good head in my younger days, but if I don't
flatter myself, I think I have a good head-piece in my old age, or else
it would not have been musket-proof.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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