The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 05Stevenson, Robert Louis
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The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 05
Stevenson, Robert Louis
English literature -- 19th century; Fiction
Whether it was the salt or the mustard, or the mere combination of so
many subversive agents, as soon as the last had been poured over his
throat, the young sufferer obtained relief.
"There!" I exclaimed, with natural triumph, "I have saved a life!"
"And yet, madam," returned the prince, "your mercy may be cruelly
disguised. Where the honour is lost, it is, at least, superfluous to
prolong the life."
"If you had led a life as changeable as mine, your highness," I replied,
"you would hold a very different opinion. For my part, and after
whatever extremity of misfortune or disgrace, I should still count
to-morrow worth a trial."
"You speak as a lady, madam," said the prince; "and for such you speak
the truth. But to men there is permitted such a field of licence, and
the good behaviour asked of them is at once so easy and so little, that
to fail in that is to fall beyond the reach of pardon. But will you
suffer me to repeat a question, put to you at first, I am afraid, with
some defect of courtesy; and to ask you once more, who you are and how I
have the honour of your company?"
"I am the proprietor of the house in which we stand," said I.
"And still I am at fault," returned the prince.
But at that moment the timepiece on the mantelshelf began to strike the
hour of twelve; and the young man, raising himself upon one elbow, with
an expression of despair and horror that I have never seen excelled,
cried lamentably: "Midnight? oh, just God!" We stood frozen to our
places, while the tingling hammer of the timepiece measured the
remaining strokes; nor had we yet stirred, so tragic had been the tones
of the young man, when the various bells of London began in turn to
declare the hour. The timepiece was inaudible beyond the walls of the
chamber where we stood; but the second pulsation of Big Ben had scarcely
throbbed into the night, before a sharp detonation rang about the house.
The prince sprang for the door by which I had entered; but quick as he
was, I yet contrived to intercept him.
"Are you armed?" I cried.
"No, madam," replied he. "You remind me appositely; I will take the
poker."
"The man below," said I, "has two revolvers. Would you confront him at
such odds?"
He paused, as though staggered in his purpose. "And yet, madam," said
he, "we cannot continue to remain in ignorance of what has passed."
"No!" cried I. "And who proposes it? I am as curious as yourself, but
let us rather send for the police; or, if your highness dreads a
scandal, for some of your own servants."
"Nay, madam," he replied, smiling, "for so brave a lady, you surprise
me. Would you have me, then, send others where I fear to go myself."
"You are perfectly right," said I, "and I was entirely wrong. Go, in
God's name, and I will hold the candle!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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