The Laughing Cavalier: The Story of the Ancestor of the Scarlet Pimpernel — John Shaqi
The Laughing Cavalier: The Story of the Ancestor of the Scarlet PimpernelOrczy, Emmuska Orczy, Baroness
History
The Laughing Cavalier: The Story of the Ancestor of the Scarlet Pimpernel
Orczy, Emmuska Orczy, Baroness
Adventure stories; Historical fiction; Netherlands -- History -- 17th century -- Fiction
The kiss imprinted upon her hand by respectful, if somewhat bantering,
lips had greatly pleased her: such she imagined would be the homage of a
vassal proud to have attracted the notice of his lady paramount. The
curtly expressed desire to quit her presence, in order to repair to a
tavern, had roused her indignation and her contempt.
She was angered beyond what the circumstance warranted, and while the
minister preached an admirable and learned watch-night sermon she felt
her attention drifting away from the discourse and the solemnity of the
occasion, whilst her wrath against a most unworthy object was taking the
place of more pious and charitable feelings.
The preacher had taken for his text the sublime words from the New
Testament: "The greatest of these is charity." He thought that the first
day of the New Year was a splendid opportunity for the good inhabitants
of Haarlem to cast off all gossiping and back-biting ways and to live
from this day forth in greater amity and benevolence with one another.
"Love thy neighbour as thyself," he adjured passionately, and the
burghers, with their vrouws in their Sunday best, were smitten with
remorse of past scandal-mongering, and vowed that in the future they
would live in perfect accord and good-will.
Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn, too, thought of all her friends and
acquaintances with the kindliest of feelings, and she had not a harsh
thought for anyone in her heart ... not for anyone, at any rate, who was
good and deserving.... As for that knavish malapert with the merry,
twinkling eyes and the mocking smile, surely God would not desire her to
be in charity with him; a more ungrateful, more impertinent wretch, she
had never met, and it was quite consoling to think of all that Mynheer
Beresteyn's influence could have done for those three ragamuffins, and
how in the near future they must all suffer abominable discomfort,
mayhap with shortage of food and drink, or absence of shelter, when no
doubt one of them at least would remember with contrition the
magnanimous offer of help made to him by gracious lips, and which he had
so insolently refused.
So absorbed was Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn in these thoughts that she never
even noticed that the watch-night service was over, and the minister
already filing out with the clerk. The general exodus around her
recalled her to herself and also to a sense of contrition for the absent
way in which she had assisted at this solemn service.
She whispered to Maria to wait for her outside the church with the men.
"I must yet pray for a little while alone," she said. "I will join you
at the north door in a quarter of an hour."
And she fell on her knees, and was soon absorbed in prayer.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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