Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
I think two persons in love could never have been in a worse plight
than Cynthia and I. There seemed no course open to us, other than to
flee together, we knew not whither. Before even this could be
considered, however, we had to find the means.
"What money have you left in your poke?" I asked her.
"Twelvepence exactly and a halfpenny over."
I whistled long and shrill. "Which is twelve-pence exactly and a
halfpenny more than there is in mine. At nine o'clock this morning I
staked my all, including three periwigs, nine pairs of silk breeches,
stockings, five cambric brocaded waistcoats, silver-buckled shoes,
sword, duelling pistols, house and furniture, the Odes of Horace, and
my man-cook--staked 'em on the queen of hearts and lost 'em. Think on
it, my pretty--lost 'em on the queen of hearts."
"I care not for that," says Cynthia. "I will not go back, and so you
must make the best of me."
"But, child, what can I do when I'm taken?"
"You must not be taken."
"In that case," says I, "the only chance we have is to get away from
here at once, furnished with the clothes we stand in, and the sum of
twelve-pence halfpenny."
CHAPTER II
LADY CYNTHIA CAREW
Having come to this odd resolve, it behoved us to lose no time. But
whither we should go, neither of us knew. North, south, east, or west,
one latitude was as good as another. We should be equally served in
each. As for the means at our disposal, we had the sum of twelve-pence
halfpenny sterling. I am sure that much the same thoughts were
uppermost in the minds of us both, for the moment I looked at little
Cynthia sitting on the couch with a tight mouth and ratter quizzical
eyes, I broke forth into a shout of laughter, which she returned so
promptly that it became a question as to whom the honour of the first
peal belonged.
In the midst of this pleasantry I walked to the door of the room and
locked it again. I had no mind to be taken unawares by the enemy; and
provided I was not, François' example had shown that a way of escape
was always open.
"Now, my dear," says I, "we have no time to lose; let us be putting our
few affairs in order. Look round this despoiled chamber, and tell me
if you observe any article in it that could be turned into money at a
pawnshop, or is likely otherwise to serve us on our journey. I am
sorry to say that every object of _vertu_ that I ever possessed upon
which we might at a pinch have raised a seven-shilling piece has
already been called upon to perform that office. There is one
exception even to these, it is true, but that cannot help us now, and I
rejoice to think so. For five minutes before your arrival I gave away
to a connoisseur, a dilettante, a lover of the beautiful, Sir Godfrey
Kneller's picture of my famous grandfather. I think I could never have
held up my head again had I given up that eminent nobleman to the
ignoble usages I have suggested. I foresaw this calamity; let me take
the credit therefore of its aversion."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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