The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer — CompleteLever, Charles
General
The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer — Complete
Lever, Charles
Fiction
never could clearly make out, for the wind and rain were both beating
so hard against my face that I could not hear a word; however, I was
able just to perceive that he was very much disguised in drink, and
spoke rather thick. ‘Well, never mind,’ said I, ‘it’s not a time of day
for much conversation; so, come along, and I’ll see you safe in the
guard-house, if you can’t remember your own place of abode in the
meanwhile.’ It was just at the moment I said this that I first
discovered he was not a gentleman. Well, now, you’d never guess how I
did it; and, faith I always thought it a very cute thing of me, and
both of us in the dark.”
“Well, I really confess it must have been a very difficult thing, under
the circumstances; pray how did you contrive?” said the major.
“Just guess how.”
“By the tone of his voice perhaps, and his accent,” said Curzon.
“Devil a bit, for he spoke remarkably well, considering how far gone he
was in liquor.”
“Well, probably by the touch of his hand; no bad test.”
“No; you’re wrong again, for it was by the hair I had a hold of him for
fear of falling, for he was always stooping down. Well, you’d never
guess it; it was just by the touch of his foot.”
“His foot! Why how did that give you any information?”
“There it is now; that’s just what only an Irishman would ever have
made any thing out of; for while he was stumbling about, he happened to
tread upon my toes, and never, since I was born, did I feel any thing
like the weight of him. ‘Well,’ said I, ‘the loss of your hat may give
you a cold, my friend; but upon my conscience you are in no danger of
wet feet with such a pair of strong brogues as you have on you.’ Well,
he laughed at that till I thought he’d split his sides, and, in good
truth, I could not help joining in the fun, although my foot was
smarting like mad, and so we jogged along through the rain, enjoying
the joke just as if we were sitting by a good fire, with a jorum of
punch between us. I am sure I can’t tell you how often we fell that
night, but my clothes the next morning were absolutely covered with
mud, and my hat crushed in two; for he was so confoundedly drunk it was
impossible to keep him up, and he always kept boring along with his
head down, so that my heart was almost broke in keeping him upon his
legs. I’m sure I never had a more fatiguing march in the whole
Peninsula, than that blessed mile and a half; but every misfortune has
an end at last, and it was four o’clock, striking by the college clock,
as we reached the barracks. After knocking a couple of times, and
giving the countersign, the sentry opened the small wicket, and my
heart actually leaped with joy that I had done with my friend; so, I
just called out the sergeant of the guard, and said, ‘will you put that
poor fellow on the guard-bed till morning, for I found him on the
common, and he could neither find his way home nor tell me where he
lived.’ ‘And where is he?’ said the sergeant. ‘He’s outside the gate
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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