Adventure stories; Short stories, English -- Scottish authors; Soldiers -- Fiction
Overwhelmed with dejection he cast himself into a chair; there the
General regarded him wistfully, and placing a hand kindly on his
shoulder, said:
'Lewie, shall I tell you of what once happened to me?'
But, full of his own terrible thoughts, Lewie made no reply.
'It may have been that evil followed me,' said the General, looking
down, with a hand placed in the breast of his coat.
'Evil?' repeated Lewie.
'Yes. When a boy I shot in the wood of Thomineau the last crane that
was ever seen in Scotland, and my old nurse predicted that a curse
would follow me therefor; thus, I never see a crane on a house-top
here that I don't remember her words. Now listen to what happened to
me when I was on detachment in the Dutch West India Islands. I
belonged then to the battalion of Charles Halkett Craigie, who six
years ago died Lieutenant-Governor of Namur, and we garrisoned Fort
Nassau, or New Amsterdam as it is called now. There,' continued the
General, alternately and nervously toying with his sword-knot and
shirt-frill, 'I was silly enough to fall in love with the daughter of
a wealthy merchant, a Dutch girl, like your Dolores, with some of the
old Castilian blood in her, though a lineal descendant of the great
Dutch family of Van Peere, to whom, in 1678, Berbice was granted by
the States-General as a perpetual and hereditary fief. She possessed
great beauty, and what proved more attractive still, a hundred sweet
and winning ways, with the art of saying pretty and even daring
little things, that endeared her to all--to none more than me. I was
a great ass, of course; but, heavens, what a coquette she was!'
'What was her name?' asked Lewie, with just the smallest amount of
interest.
'Excuse me telling, as I have sworn never to utter it again; nor do I
wish it to go down in the annals of our family. She wound herself
round my heart; my soul, my existence, seemed to be hers. My love
for her became a species of idolatry; but poverty tied my tongue, and
I dared not speak of it, till one evening, which I shall never
forget, the secret left me abruptly, drawn from me by _herself_. We
were lingering in the garden of her father's villa near the Berbice
river, and the stars were coming out, one by one, in the deep blue
sky above us. The hour was beautiful--all that a lover could wish;
and around us the atmosphere was fragrant with the perfume of
flowers--among those wonders of the vegetable world--the gigantic
water-lilies, each leaf of which is six feet in diameter. I was soon
to leave for Holland on duty, and my heart was wrung at the prospect
of a separation.
'I had her hand in mine: my secret was trembling on my lips; and
gazing into her eyes which were of a golden-brown colour, like that
of her hair, I said very softly:
'"If your eyes have at all times an expression so sweet, so beautiful
and winning, what must they seem to the man who reads love in
them--love for himself!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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