The Touchstone of Fortune: Being the Memoir of Baron Clyde, Who Lived, Thrived, and Fell in the Doleful Reign of the So-called Merry Monarch, Charles IIMajor, Charles
History
The Touchstone of Fortune: Being the Memoir of Baron Clyde, Who Lived, Thrived, and Fell in the Doleful Reign of the So-called Merry Monarch, Charles II
Major, Charles
Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction
"If neither you nor I know what I have done to offend, how are we to
settle this matter? How may I apologize or make amends?" I asked.
"You can't," he returned.
"Ah, but I can and I will, George Hamilton," I answered, determined not
to let him put me off without knowing wherein I had offended. "Save what
you heard at Sundridge, I have neither done nor said anything unfit to
come from a friend. If any man has reported me otherwise, he has lied.
If any woman--well, she is mistaken."
"No one has reported you otherwise or any wise," he answered.
"Then tell me the cause of your grievance, and I may be able to explain
or deny. You perhaps know by this time that I always speak the truth
to you, so out with it, George. Let us settle this matter, whatever it
be--one way or the other. Friendship should not be left to dangle between
love and hatred. It sits squarely on the heart of an honest man, or is
cast out candidly and above board. Shall I sit down?"
"Yes," he answered, rising from the bed, drawing the rug up over his
shoulders, and taking a chair not far from where I was sitting. "I saw
your cousin--"
"When and where?" I interrupted.
"Yesterday, in this house," he replied.
"Did she come to see you? And did you permit her to come?" I asked,
finding it my turn to be angry.
"No, she did not come to see me, nor had I anything to do with her visit
to the Old Swan. She was eating dinner with Nell Gwynn, and--"
"Was she the duchess, of whom Betty told me?" I asked, interrupting him.
"Yes, the Duchess of Hearts, as I hear she has been dubbed at court," he
answered, with an angry gleam in his eyes and a sharp note of contempt in
his voice.
"And was it for her you fought?" I asked, feeling as though I was reading
a page from a story-book. "Betty told me about it, but you tell me,
please?"
"Betty usually exhausts a subject, so there is no need to tell you about
the fight," he said. "It was really a small affair, and my wounds are
nothing to speak of. I suffered more from other causes."
"Yes, yes, George. Tell me all about it," I returned, drawing my chair
nearer to him. "I fear a mistake has been made, a misunderstanding of
some sort, though I cannot imagine even the sort. Now, tell me."
"I came up from Sheerness on a Dutch boat and landed at Deptford
yesterday morning," he began hesitatingly. "After sending a messenger on
business in which I was deeply interested, I came to the Old Swan to get
a bite to eat and to find a bed. While waiting in the tap-room for my
dinner, I recognized Nelly's laugh and went into the private dining room
to see her, hoping that she might drop a word concerning another person.
I should not have gone to see her, for while in France I had heard from
De Grammont, with whom I have had some correspondence, that I was out of
favor with the king and that Crofts had been trying to fix on me the
guilt of a crime which he himself committed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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