The MS. in a Red BoxHamilton, John A. (John Arthur)
History
The MS. in a Red Box
Hamilton, John A. (John Arthur)
Axholme, Isle of (England) -- History -- Fiction
"That you shall hear over a turf fire with a cup of mulled claret at
your lips or in your fist; not here, where we are like to freeze."
Within an hour I had heard of my friends and their efforts on my
behalf, while I had been in durance, which I need not here set down.
John dashed my spirits no little by his account of Mr. Ulceby's
affairs, who had trusted overmuch in the honour and prosperity of one
with whom he had large dealings, now become bankrupt, so that there was
fear his own business might be ruined.
"Whatever be the upshot," said he, "there can be no present question of
your entering his service, and, so far as you are concerned, I am
content it should be so. As well cage a swallow, or try to keep salmon
in a pond, as to pen you in a counting-house. We must cast about for
some likelier means to push your fortune. What say you to offering our
swords to the King of Sweden in his war against the Poles? I have
acquaintance with some of his officers, who would be more than willing
to take two such soldiers of fortune."
"You would go?"
"That would I gladly. And we are comrades, not to be parted, until you
are Benedick, the married man."
I took a little time to think before I gave answer, for I doubted
whether my small store of valuables would sell for as much as would
provide a soldier's outfit and pay my passage to Sweden. Then I had my
horse's keep to think on. He had been stabled, fed, and exercised at
Belshaw this long time.
"That cloudy brow says you lack the wherewithal, I suppose. Surely, I
need not say 'my purse, my person, my extremest means, lie open to your
occasions.' And while I have lain here, my money has grown to a heap
that will take some spending. 'Tis a kindness to help me, for a sort
of miserliness has been creeping on me of late."
I laughed at this, but John would have it that 'twas no laughing matter.
"As soon as a heap of gold is big enough to hide one of Satan's imps,
there he lurks like a wood-louse under a stone, and whenever you go to
take a piece, he whispers, 'Don't minish the pile, but make it bigger;
dear brother devil, do.' And he can find fifty diabolical reasons why
you should."
After more talk of this kind, we fell into serious debate, of which the
conclusion was, that we should enter the Swedish army with what speed
we might; so, leaving John to do what was necessary, I rode to Crowle,
rejoicing to be again astride my gallant Trueboy, who gave every sign a
horse can make that he was as well pleased as I.
How my good aunt received me, I lack words to describe. She threw
herself into my arms, clasped my neck, and then held me off to look at
my face, and wept and laughed and wept again, and in spite of her
sobbing and choking, spoke faster than I ever heard her do before or
since.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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