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
"I do not favor your suit with my cousin to any greater extent than I did
when we were at Sundridge," I continued, determined that there should be
no misunderstanding of my position in that respect, "though since that
time I have learned that you are a far better man than I had ever
supposed. I have not recommended my cousin to the king, nor is she his
favorite in the sense you seem to believe. I do not know the cause of her
aversion to you, and, sir, I have nothing else to say except that I take
it for granted that you know I speak the truth. This is my explanation.
It is for you to say whether you accept or reject it."
I rose, giving him to understand that I was ready to take my leave, but
he motioned me to resume my chair. After gazing vacantly out the window
for a moment, he covered his face with his hands and answered:--
"I accept your explanation gladly, Baron Ned. I have wronged you. I have
been in such turmoil of mind and conscience for so long a time that I am
hardly responsible, and now I suppose I am in a fever because of the loss
of blood."
I resumed my chair, the difference being settled between us, and in a
moment we began to discuss the cause of Frances's sudden change.
It must be remembered that I knew nothing all this time of Hamilton's
remote connection with Roger Wentworth's murder. The dimly hinted rumors
that had reached my ears I had put down to Crofts's desire for a
scapegoat, and the conversation between Frances and Nelly, and Nelly's
conclusions, all came to me after this interview with Hamilton.
Failing to reach any conclusion after a long discussion of the subject,
Hamilton and I began to speak on other topics, and I asked him where he
had been and what he had been doing.
"I have been at the French court, gambling furiously, and hoarding my
money," he answered. "I have not even bought a suit of clothes, and have
turned every piece of lace and every jewel I possessed into cash."
"I supposed you were leaving off some of your old ways, gambling among
them," I remarked, sorry to hear of his fall from grace.
"And so I have," he answered. "But I wanted a thousand pounds to use in a
good cause, and felt that I was doing no wrong to rob a very bad Peter in
France to pay a very good Paul at home. I have paid the good Paul, and am
now done with cards and dice forever."
"I'm glad to hear you say so, George," I returned.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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