The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer — Volume 6Lever, Charles
General
The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer — Volume 6
Lever, Charles
Fiction
With the dawn of day my miseries recommenced; for after letting down the
sash, and venting some very fervent imprecations upon the postillion for
not going faster than his horses were able, the courier once more
recurred to his last night's blunder, and proceeded very leisurely to
catechise me as to my probable stay at Strasbourg, when I should go from
there, &c. As I was still in doubt what or whom he took me for, I
answered with the greatest circumspection--watching, the while, for any
clue that might lead me to a discovery of myself. Thus, occasionally
evading all pushing and home queries, and sometimes, when hard pressed,
feigning drowsiness, I passed the long and anxious day--the fear of being
overtaken ever mingling with the thoughts that some unlucky admission of
mine might discover my real character to the courier, who, at any post
station, might hand me over to the authorities. Could I only guess at
the part I am performing, thought I, and I might manage to keep up the
illusion; but my attention was so entirely engrossed by fencing off all
his threats, that I could find out nothing. At last, as night drew near,
the thought that we were approaching Strasbourg rallied my spirits,
suggesting an escape from all pursuit, as well as the welcome prospect of
getting rid of my present torturer, who, whenever I awoke from a doze,
reverted to our singular meeting with a pertinacity that absolutely
seemed like malice.
"As I am aware that this is your first visit to Strasbourg," said the
courier, "perhaps I can be of service to you in recommending a hotel.
Put up, I advise you, at the 'Bear'--a capital hotel, and not ten
minutes' distance from the theatre."
I thanked him for the counsel; and, rejoicing in the fact that my
prototype, whoever he might be, was unknown in the city, began to feel
some little hope of getting through this scrape, as I had done so many
others.
"They have been keeping the 'Huguenots' for your arrival, and all
Strasbourg is impatient for your coming."
"Indeed!" said I, mumbling something meant to be modest. "Who the devil
am I, then, to cause all this fracas? Heaven grant, not the new
'prefect,' or the commander of the forces."
"I am told the 'Zauberflotte' is your favourite opera?"
"I can't say that I ever heard it--that is, I mean that I could say--well
got up."
Here I floundered on having so far forgot myself as to endanger every
thing.
"How very unfortunate! Well, I hope you will not long have as much to
say. Meanwhile, here we are--this is the 'Bear.'"
We rattled into the ample porte cochere of a vast hotel--the postillion
cracking his enormous whip, and bells ringing on every side, as if the
crown prince of Russia had been the arrival, and not a poor sub. in the
__th.
The courier jumped out, and running up to the landlord, whispered a few
words in his ear, to which the other answered by a deep "ah, vraiment!"
and then saluted me with an obsequiousness that made my flesh quake.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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