Sue Petigru Bowen - The Actress in High Life

S >> Sue Petigru Bowen >> The Actress in High Life

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

"It is not a leap forward in life that you have made, but a leap
aside, out of your own character. It amazes me to see you galloping
wildly over this outlandish country, without a thought but flowers,
soldiers, and sightseeing. I sometimes think you bewitched."

"What is more likely?" said Lady Mabel. "To us silly women, flowers,
soldiers, and sightseeing, are the most bewitching things in the
world."

"But you have lost all caution, all fear, and let these friends of
yesterday lead you you know not whither."

"Traveling is one way to grow wise; and as to danger, what did you
leave Craiggyside for, if it was not to take care of me?"

"Heaven knows I knew not what I undertook. I find one young lady
harder to look after than twelve score of ewes, the kine, and the
crops, with the ploughmen, shepherd, and dairy-maid to boot."

"Pray do not tell that to any but myself. With such a character, so
far from passing for a lady, I could not get a place as lady's maid."

"You may laugh, my lady, but the danger is real and near. I do not
trust your new friends," and Moodie shook his finger at them before
him. "I know what is ordered must come to pass, and it is sinful to
repine at it. But I have known you from a girl, a child, for you are a
girl still, my lady, and it grieves my heart to see you galloping on
to Rome and ruin."

"Is that my predestined road?" said Lady Mabel. "Then I suppose I must
ride it, but it will be at a spanking pace," and giving her horse a
cut she dashed off to the head of the party, while Moodie gazed after
her in despair.

Hearing the tread of horses close behind him, he looked round and saw
L'Isle's servants at his heels, watching him closely. The thought
struck him, that he might find these men useful. So, falling back
alongside of them, he said to L'Isle's man: "Do you know any thing of
the strange country we are going to now?"

The man looked around for a moment with a puzzled air, but perceiving
that Moodie was under some strange mistake, he merely said: "I am
following my master, and leave him to choose his own road."

"We are playing the game of follow your leader, Mr. Moodie," said the
groom, dipping into the dialogue. "The Colonel leads, and we are to
follow you know; and d----t, we will play out the game."

"But do you know that he is leading you to the land of the Moors?"

"If he is going to the land of the great Black-a-moor himself, we must
shut our eyes and gallop down hill. His country is said to lie in that
way."

Moodie muttered something about a son of Belial, but he wished to use
these men, and not offend them. So, turning to the groom, with grim
sociability, he asked: "Can you speak the language of the people
hereabouts?"

"I can call lustily for meat and drink, and make my wants known at a
pinch."

"Can you hire me a messenger at the next place we stop at? You must
know," said he, in a confidential tone, "I left an important matter
sadly neglected in Elvas. It is my lord's business, and I would be
sorry to come to blame in it. Whatever it cost, I must send a letter
there without delay, and while I write, you must find man and
horse. He shall have two guineas the minute the job is done. Is that
enough?"

"Quite enough," the groom answered, gravely, while his companion
turned away his head to conceal a grin. "I know something about riding
express, and for two guineas I will find you a man to ride to Elvas
and back in double quick time."

"You shall have a guinea for yourself, if you prove a man of your
word, and send my letter in time."

"If I fail you, may your guinea choke me, for I mean to melt it down
into good liquor," said the groom.

"And I'll help him to drink your health in it, Mr. Moodie," said the
other man. "For a guinea's worth of liquor might choke a better man
than Tom."

With hope renewed, Moodie rode on after his mistress. On coming up
with them, he heard L'Isle and Lady Mabel talking Portuguese. To while
away an idle hour, she was taking a lesson in that tongue. This
annoyed Moodie, who suspected some plot, when they thus kept him in
the dark. But he consoled himself with the hope that his important
dispatch would yet be in time to prevent mischief, and he once more
refreshed himself with his bottle, being now well convinced of its
medicinal virtue.

Lady Mabel was in high spirits, talking and laughing, and occasionally
looking round at Moodie, enjoying the deception she had put upon
him. Her success in bewildering him, now tempted her to quiz L'Isle,
and she abruptly said: "It must have been a violent fit of patriotism
and martial ardor that made you abandon the thought of taking orders,
and quit Oxford for the camp."

"I never had any thought of taking orders," answered L'Isle, surprised
and annoyed, he knew not exactly why. "I only lived with those who
had."

"You lived with them to some purpose, then, and have, too, a great
aptitude for the church."

"It is not my vocation," said L'Isle, laconically.

"You have only not yet found it out. But it is not too late," she
persisted. "Your case, my good man-slaying Christian, is not like
Gonsalvo's of Cordova, who had but a remnant of his days in which to
play the penitent monk. These wars will soon be over, and you are
still young. If you cannot make a general, you may be a bishop in
time. Indeed, I already see in you a pillar of our church."

It was not flattering to an ambitious young soldier to hint that he
had so mistaken his calling. L'Isle was almost angry, at which Lady
Mabel felt a mischievous delight; and Mrs. Shortridge was highly
amused.

"It is but a small inducement I can offer you, among so many higher
motives," Lady Mabel continued. "But I promise you, that, whenever you
preach your first sermon, I will travel even to Land's-end to hear
it."

"Lady Mabel shall offer a greater bribe," said Mrs. Shortridge, with
an arch look. "If you will only exchange the sword for the surplice,
Colonel L'Isle, whenever she commits matrimony, no one but you shall
solemnize the rite."

Far from being tempted, L'Isle seemed utterly disgusted at the
inducement.

Lady Mabel blushed to the crown of her head, and exclaimed, "I am too
fond of my liberty to offer that bribe. That is a high and bare hill,"
she said, seeking to divert their attention. "Let us ride to the top
of it, and survey the country around."

"You may do so, if you like," said Mrs. Shortridge, composedly; "but I
have made a vow to do no extra riding to-day. This road is long enough
and rough enough for me."

Lady Mabel turned from the path, and, followed by L'Isle, was soon
ascending the hill. Moodie, somewhat under the influence of his
soporific draughts, was in a reverie, wondering whether Lord Strathern
would get his letter in time to send a troop of horse after the
fugitives, and whether it might not come within the provisions of the
military code to have L'Isle court-martialed and shot for running off
with his General's daughter, when, looking up, he missed Lady Mabel,
and then discovered her with L'Isle, scampering over the hill. In
great confusion, he rode up to Mrs. Shortridge, and asked, "Where are
they going now?"

"I scarcely know," she answered; "but Colonel L'Isle will take care of
Lady Mabel, so you can stay and take care of me."

Moodie cast on her a look of angry suspicion, which scanned her from
head to foot, and plainly pronounced her no sufficient pledge for his
mistress. Spurring his horse, he followed Lady Mabel at a run. The
animal he rode had often carried fifteen stone, in Lord Strathern's
person, over as rough ground as this, and made light of Moodie's
weight, which was scarcely more than nine. Without picking his way, he
made directly for his companions ahead; and the clatter of his hoofs
soon making Lady Mabel look round, she drew up her horse in haste, and
anxiously watched Moodie's career. A deep chasm, washed out by the
winter rains, was cleared by the horse in capital style, but Moodie
lit on his valise, and with difficulty recovered the saddle. Just
between him and Lady Mabel the last tree on the hill-side, torn from
the shallow soil by some heavy blast, lay horizontally on its decaying
roots and branches. Moodie rode at it with unquailing eye; and, while
Lady Mabel uttered an exclamation of alarm, the horse cleared it in a
bucking leap, throwing Moodie against the holsters; but he fell back
into his seat, and rode up triumphantly to his mistress. This
energetic demonstration seemed to overawe Lady Mabel. Turning from the
hill-top before them, she rode demurely back to the party, resolved
not to wander from the beaten path, or go faster than a foot-pace,
until Moodie had dismounted, and his neck was safe.

A peasant on an ass, coming down the road, had stopped and stood at
gaze at a distance, watching these equestrian manoeuvres. But when he
saw the party, now united, coming toward him, he turned short to the
left, and hastened away at a pace that proved that his _burro_ had
four nimble legs.

"That must be a thief," said Mrs. Shortridge, "afraid of falling in
with honest folks."

"Or an honest man," suggested L'Isle, "afraid of falling among
thieves. I have observed a growing dislike in the peasantry to meeting
small parties of our people in out of the way places. I suspect that
they are sometimes made to pay toll for traveling their own roads."

Their road was winding round the side of the hill, and they presently
got a glimpse of a cultivated valley before them. The spirit of
mischief suddenly revived in Lady Mabel's bosom. She fell back
alongside of Moodie, and said: "This way seems much traveled. It is no
longer a by-path; we may call it a high road in this country. We must
be drawing near to the city of Mauropolis. I wonder we have yet met
none of these turbaned Moors."

Moodie roused himself, and looked anxiously ahead. The mountain
shadows already fell upon the valley; but the evening sun still shone
upon a city opposite to them. It was seated high above the valley, and
flanked by two fortresses of unequal elevation, which partly hid it.
The Serra de Portalagre rising behind, overhung it, and the city
seemed nestled in a nook in the steep mountain side. Moodie from this
point did not recognize the place, but gazed on it steadfastly, with
no kindly feeling. "Edom is exalted. He hath made his habitation in
the clefts of the rock. He sayeth in his heart, who shall bring me
down?" But presently he distinguished the peculiar aqueduct, and his
eye roving westward, was struck by the familiar outline of _Serra
D'Ossa_.

"We have lost our road," said Lady Mabel, "and found our way back to
Elvas;" and, laughing merrily, she shot ahead, leaving Moodie too much
angered and mortified to enjoy the relief of his anxieties.

On reaching his quarters he went straight to his bed, to sleep off his
fatigue, his chagrin, and the good wine which had befriended yet
beguiled him.

CHAPTER XIV.

It snowed in his house of meat and drink,
Of all dainties that men could of think;
After the sundry seasons of the year,
So changed he his meat and soupere.
Full many a fat patriarch had he in mew,
And many a breme and many a luce in stew;
Wo was his cook, but if his sauce were
Poignant and sharp, and ready all his gere,
His table dormant in his hall alway,
Stood ready covered all the long day.

_Prologue to Canterbury Tales_.

Three days had gone by since the return of the party from Evora. The
ladies had gotten over their fatigue, talked over their travels, and
wondered at seeing nothing of L'Isle. He had merely sent to inquire
after their health, instead of coming himself, as in duty bound. Lady
Mabel had confidently looked for him the first day, asked about him
the next, and on the third, feeling hurt at this continued neglect,
concluded that she had had enough of his company of late, and it did
not matter should she not see him for a month.

Meanwhile, what was L'Isle doing? He was busy reforming himself and
his regiment. On his return to Elvas he had met with several little
indications of relaxed discipline, and somewhat suddenly remembered
that he had not come out to Portugal to ride about the country,
escorting young ladies in search of botanical specimens, picturesque
scenes, and fragments of antiquity. He, the most punctilious of
martinets, had been sadly neglecting his duties, and had used the
invalid's plea until it was worn threadbare long ago. He was
dissatisfied with himself, and, of course, more dissatisfied with
other people.

From the day he came back he was constantly in the midst of his
regiment. He showed himself, too, at the head of the mess table at
every meal, taking that, as well as other opportunities, to inculcate
rigid precept and sound doctrine on military matters, and lecture his
officers on the subject of discipline. Nor did he confine himself to
generalities. He was exacting with his major, hard on his adjutant; he
gave Captain A---- to understand that the days and nights spent in the
mountains in pursuit of his game tended little to promote the King's
service, and that leave would be refused in future, and he suggested
to Captain B---- that the best way to ascertain the state of his
company was not to send for his orderly sergeant, but to inspect it
himself. He spoiled more than one party of pleasure for some of these
gentlemen by finding very inopportunely something else for them to do
than following the ladies of Elvas and other game of the vicinage.

Many of the officers grumbled, and voted the colonel a bore. They even
talked of sending him to Coventry. But Adjutant Meynell excused him by
whispering it about that the colonel had just met with a rude rebuff
from a certain person at headquarters, and as the rank and sex of the
offender hindered his showing his resentment in that direction, on
whom could he vent his ill-humor but on those under his command?
Meynell advised that they should all unite in sending a round robbin
to Lady Mabel, begging her to smile upon their colonel, and put him in
an amiable mood.

With the little festive skirmishes, of almost daily occurrences at
headquarters, Lord Strathern loved to mingle occasionally more serious
affairs, in the shape of grander feasts; and on the fourth day after
Lady Mabel's return, the guests assembled in force. Among them were
three ladies of Elvas, who had established a social intercourse with
Lady Mabel, and a greater, though less ostensible intimacy with some
gentlemen of the brigade. Dinner company is a phase of social life
almost unknown in Portugal, and Lady Mabel, aware of this, was
needlessly anxious to put her female guests at their ease. Her
smattering of their tongue proved inadequate, and even her Spanish but
poorly served the purposes of conversation. Dona Carlotta Sequiera,
indeed, despising the peninsular tongues, would speak only French--but
such French! She had picked up most of it along Kellerman's officers,
when he held Elvas with a French garrison in 1808. This lady, like
some other renegade Portuguese, at that time assiduously courted the
Gaul; and she was anxious now to wipe out this blot, in the eyes of
her countrymen, by making much of their British allies. Lady Mabel,
tired of her efforts to converse with the other ladies, and sick of
Dona Carlotta's French,

"After the school of Stratford at bow,
For French of Paris was to her unknow"--

longed to see her self-appointed dragoman enter the room.

L'Isle had ridden out in the morning to a place on the borders,
equi-distant between Elvas and Badajoz, the scene of a serious outrage
by a party of marauders two nights before. A peasant, guilty of being
richer than his neighbors, had been punished by having his house
forced, his head broken, his premises sacked, and his family
ill-treated. Though there had been but little blood shed, there had
been much wine spilt, besides several plump goat-skins carried off
with the rest of the plunder. The English in Elvas laid this
achievement at the door of the irregular Spanish force at Badajoz. Tie
Spanish officers were quite as sure that it was the exploit of
volunteer foragers from the English cantonments. L'Isle, seeing nobody
disposed to inquire into the matter, went and made an examination on
the spot, which inclined him to believe that the Spanish version was
the true history of this little military operation. After a hot ride
he returned in time to make his bow to Lady Mabel among the latest of
her guests.

Mrs. Shortridge was very glad to see him, but reproached him with his
late neglect of his friends; and turned toward Lady Mabel, expecting
her concurrence in this censure. But my lady said, with sublime
indifference: "What matters Colonel L'Isle's absence hitherto, since
he has now come in time to interpret between us and our Portuguese
friends? I have exhausted my stock of Portuguese," she continued,
addressing L'Isle; "and find that they do not always comprehend my
Spanish. Major Warren, indeed, has been lending me his aid; but I
think the interpreter the harder to be understood of the two. Is it
not strange these ladies do not understand me better; for their
language is but bad Spanish, and mine is surely bad enough."

"Do not say that to the Portuguese," said L'Isle. "They will be justly
offended; for their tongue is rather the elder sister of the Spanish
than a corruption of it."

"Pray, lend me your tongue, Colonel L'Isle," said Mrs.
Shortridge. "Here Dona Carlotta Sequiera has been jabbering at me in
what I now find out to be French, but I am ashamed to say, I do not
know thirty words of the language."

"Better to be ignorant of it," said L'Isle with a sneer, "than learn
it as Dona Carlotta did."

"I know not how she acquired it," said Mrs. Shortridge, "but I am told
that here on the continent every educated person speaks French. We
English are far behind them in that."

"Be proud rather than ashamed of that," said L'Isle. "Monsieur has
taught all Europe his language except ourselves. Flagellation is a
necessary part of schooling. As he has never been able to thrash us,
we are the worst French scholars in Europe, and those he has thrashed
oftenest, are the best. They should blush at their knowledge; we plume
ourselves on our ignorance. Thank God you have an English tongue in
your head, and never mar a better language with a Gallic phrase. There
is in every country a class who are prone to denationalize themselves;
at this day, they generally ape the Frenchman. Now, I can tolerate a
genuine Frenchman, without having any great liking for him; but if
there is any one whom I feel at liberty to despise and distrust, it is
a German, Spaniard or Englishman, who is trying to Frenchify
himself. Such people are much akin to the self-styled citizen of the
world, who professes to have rid himself of all local and national
prejudice. I have usually met _no-prejudice_ and _no-principle_
walking hand in hand together. The French," he continued, "have the
impudence to call theirs the universal language; and in diplomacy and
war, they have been long too much encouraged in this. My Lord
Wellington here is much to blame in giving way to their pretensions on
this point. Whenever I have an independent command," said L'Isle
laughing, "I will not let a Frenchman capitulate but in good English,
or for want of it, in some other language than his own. I have
already put that in practice in a small way," said he, as he handed
Mrs. Shortridge down to dinner. "I once waylaid a foraging, _anglice_,
a plundering party, returning laden to Merida. They showed fight, but
we soon tumbled them into a _barranca_, where we had them quite in our
power. But I would not listen to a word of their French, or let them
surrender, until they found a renegade Spaniard to act as
interpreter. When I want anything of them, I may speak French; but
when they want anything of me, they must ask it in another tongue."

The dinner went off as large dinners usually do. The wrong parties got
seated together, and suitable companions were separated by half the
length of the board. Lady Mabel had Colonel Bradshawe, whom she did
not want, close at hand; and her dragoman was out of hearing, which
she felt to be not only inconvenient, but a grievance; for without
entertaining any definite designs upon him, habit had already given
her a sort of property in him, and a right to his services. But the
Elvas ladies had no such ground of complaint. Each had her favorite by
her side, and Dona Carlotta one on either hand.

It was a relief to Lady Mabel when the time came to lead the ladies
back to her drawing-room. There she labored to entertain them until
some of the gentlemen found leisure to come to her aid. She expected
to see L'Isle among the first; but one after another came in without
him; the Portuguese ladies were taken off her hands by their more
intimate male friends, and she had leisure to wonder what could keep
L'Isle down stairs so long, and to get out of humor at his sticking to
the bottle, and neglecting better company for it.

Meanwhile, a great controversy was waging below. The more the
disputants drank, the more strenuously they discussed the point at
issue; and the more they exhausted themselves in argument, the oftener
they refreshed themselves by drinking; swallowing many a glass
unconsciously in the heat of the debate.

The farmer talks of seasons and his crops; the merchant of traffic and
his gains; and the soldier, though less narrow in his range of topics,
often dwells on the incidents and characteristics of military life. In
answer to some very loose notions on the subject of discipline, L'Isle
mounted his hobby, and said that he had pretty much come into the
mechanical theory on military matters. "An army is a machine; the men
composing it, parts of that machine; and the more their personal and
individual characters are obliterated, by assimilating them to the
nature of precise and definite parts of one complicated organization,
the better will they serve their purpose. Now, a machine should be
kept always in perfect order and readiness for instant application to
the purpose of its construction. An army is a machine contrived for
fighting battles; and if at any time it is not in a condition to fight
to the best advantage, it is in a state of deterioration and partial
disorganization. Troops, therefore, should be kept, at all times and
under all circumstances, under the same rigid discipline, and in the
full exercise of their functions, equally ready at all seasons for
action."

Lord Strathern took up the cudgels and maintained that though an army
might be called a machine, its component parts were men, who
necessarily had some perception of the contingencies and emergencies
incident to military life, and that great as were sacrifices they
might make, and the restrictions they might bear with when there was
obvious necessity for them, should the same exacting course be pursued
as a system, it would only break their spirits, freeze their zeal, and
disgust them with the service. "We have seen enough of your mechanical
armies, drilled and regulated to perfection, as soulless mechanism. We
have seen how, on the dislocation of this machine, the parts became
useless and helpless, without resource in themselves. In short, it is
the Prussian and Austrian system which has given half Europe to the
French. No; if the bow need unbending, still more does the soldier
need relaxation, to give vigor and elasticity to body and mind. A
little ease and pleasure chequering his career only beget desire and
the motives for new adventure and fresh exertions. How is it with our
horses," exclaimed his lordship, who was a jockey of the old school.
"Do we not give them a run at grass, to refresh their constitutions
and renew their youth?"

But L'Isle unshaken maintained his opinion, "With such materials as
make up a large part of our army, for his majesty gets the services of
many a fellow who can be put to no good use at home, your lordship's
relaxation system would only tend to sap its moral and physical
strength, and make it a curse to the country in which it is quartered,
whether at home or abroad."

It would have been well had the discussion stopped here. In the heat
of debate each pushed his argument beyond his own convictions.
Colonel Bradshawe sat sipping his wine, listening with mock gravity
and seeming to oscillate between the opinions of the disputants, but
most of the company agreed with Lord Strathern; still L'Isle found
several staunch backers for his mechanical theory. But when quoting
facts in support of his views, he referred to the conduct of their own
men on sundry late occasions, and stated the result of the inquiries
he that morning had made into the last outrage, he brought the whole
company down upon him. They were all sure that the English soldiers
had nothing to do with it. His lordship professed to detect, not only
in the act itself, but in the _modus operandi_, infallible marks that
fathered it on the Spaniard. The quiet, stealthy manner, the place,
just on the border, yet out of Spain. "Besides," he urged, "you
yourself say, that the few words the marauders were heard to utter
were all Spanish."

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23