The White Wolf and Other Fireside TalesQuiller-Couch, Arthur
Science
The White Wolf and Other Fireside Tales
Quiller-Couch, Arthur
Short stories, English
"Just so; and that is where the unfairness came in. He was
inexpressibly shocked. 'Why,' he cried, 'the Marshal had put you under
parole!' 'So far as the frontier,' said I. 'The promise upon which I
swore was that I would not consent to be released by the _partidas_ on
my journey through Spain. Once in France, I could not escape his
vengeance. Now for this very reason I have a right to interpret my
promise strictly, and I consider that during the past half-hour my
parole has expired.' 'I cannot deny it,' he allowed, and took a pace or
two up and down the room, then halted in front of me. 'You would
suggest, sir, that since this letter was taken from me by the
_partidas_, and you and I alone know that it was restored, I owe you the
favour of suppressing it.' 'Good Heavens! my young friend,' I
exclaimed, 'I suggest nothing of the sort. I may ask you to risk for my
sake a professional ambition which is very dear to you, but certainly
not to imperil your young soul by a falsehood. No, sir, if you will
deliver me to the Governor of Bayonne as a prisoner on honourable
parole--which I will renew here and extend to the gates of that city
only--and will then request an interview for the purpose of delivering
your letter and explaining how the seal came to be broken, with Joly'--
this was the trooper--'for witness, you will gain me all the time I hope
to need.' 'That will be little enough,' objected he. 'I must make the
most of it,' said I; 'and we must manage to time our arrival for the
evening, when the Governor will either be supping or at the theatre,
that the delay, if possible, may be of his creating.' 'I owe you more
than this,' said the ingenuous youth. 'And I, sir, am even ashamed of
myself for asking so much,' I answered.
"Well, so we contrived it; entered Bayonne at nightfall, presented
ourselves at the Citadel, and were, to our inexpressible joy, received
by the Deputy-Governor, who heard the Lieutenant's report and endorsed
the false paper of parole which Marmont had given me, and which, in
fact, had now expired. The fatal letter Lieutenant Gerard kept in his
pocket, while demanding an interview with the Governor himself.
This (he was told) could not be granted until the morning--'the Governor
was entertaining that night'--and with a well-feigned reluctance he
saluted and withdrew. Outside the Deputy's door we parted without a
word, and at the Citadel gate, having shown my pass, which left me free
to seek lodgings in the city, I halted, and, under the sentry's nose,
dropped a note into the Governor's letter-box. I had written it at
Hendaye, and addressed it to the Duke of Ragusa; and it ran--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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