The £1,000,000 bank-note, and other new storiesTwain, Mark
General
The £1,000,000 bank-note, and other new stories
Twain, Mark
American essays -- 19th century; American fiction -- 19th century; Humorous stories, American
‘Elfonzo was moved at this sight. The people followed on to see what was
going to become of Ambulinia, while he, with downcast looks, kept at a
distance, until he saw them enter the abode of the father, thrusting
her, that was the sigh of his soul, out of his presence into a solitary
apartment, when she exclaimed, “Elfonzo! Elfonzo! oh! Elfonzo! where art
thou, with all thy heroes? haste, oh! haste, come thou to my relief.
Ride on the wings of the wind! Turn thy force loose like a tempest, and
roll on thy army like a whirlwind, over this mountain of trouble and
confusion. Oh, friends! if any pity me, let your last efforts throng
upon the green hills, and come to the relief of Ambulinia, who is guilty
of nothing but innocent love.” Elfonzo called out with a loud voice, “My
God, can I stand this! arouse up, I beseech you, and put an end to this
tyranny. Come, my brave boys,” said he, “are you ready to go forth to
your duty?” They stood around him. “Who,” said he, “will call us to
arms? Where are my thunderbolts of war? Speak ye, the first who will
meet the foe! Who will go forth with me in this ocean of grievous
temptation? If there is one who desires to go, let him come and shake
hands upon the altar of devotion, and swear that he will be a hero; yes,
a Hector in a cause like this, which calls aloud for a speedy remedy.”
“Mine be the deed,” said a young lawyer, “and mine alone; Venus alone
shall quit her station before I will forsake one jot or tittle of my
promise to you; what is death to me? what is all this warlike army, if
it is not to win a victory? I love the sleep of the lover and the
mighty; nor would I give it over till the blood of my enemies should
wreak with that of my own. But God forbid that our fame should soar on
the blood of the slumberer.” Mr. Valeer stands at his door with the
frown of a demon upon his brow, with his dangerous weapon[5] ready to
strike the first man who should enter his door. “Who will arise and go
forward through blood and carnage to the rescue of my Ambulinia?” said
Elfonzo. “All,” exclaimed the multitude; and onward they went, with
their implements of battle. Others, of a more timid nature, stood among
the distant hills to see the result of the contest.’
Footnote 5:
It is a crowbar.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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