Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume Ii Part 61
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"Oh, as to that, easily managed. And now I think of it, they have sent me an unattached uniform, which you can have; but remember, my boy, if I put you in my coat, I don't want you to stand in my shoes. Don't forget also that I am your debtor in horseflesh, and fortunately able to repay you. I have got such a charger; your own favorite color, dark chestnut, and except one white leg, not a spot about him; can carry sixteen stone over a five-foot fence, and as steady as a rock under fire."
"But, Fred, how are you--"
"Oh, never mind me; I have six in my stable, and intend to share with you.
The fact is, I have been transferred from one staff to another for the last six months, and four of my number are presents. Is Mike with you? Ah, glad to hear it; you will never get on without that fellow. Besides, it is a capital thing to have such a connecting link with one's nationality. No fear of your ever forgetting Ireland with Mr. Free in your company. You are not aware that we have been correspondents. A fact, I a.s.sure you. Mike wrote me two letters; and such letters they were! The last was a Jeremiad over your decline and fall, with a very ominous picture of a certain Miss Baby Blake."
"Confound the rascal!"
"By Jove, though, Charley, you were coming it rather strong with Baby. Inez saw the letter, and as well as she could decipher Mike's hieroglyphics, saw there was something in it; but the name Baby puzzled her immensely, and she set the whole thing down to your great love of children. I don't think that Lucy quite agreed with her."
"Did she tell it to Miss Dashwood?" I inquired, with fear and trembling.
"Oh, that she did; in fact, Inez never ceases talking of you to Lucy. But come, lad, don't look so grave. Let's have another brush with the enemy; capture a battery of their guns; carry off a French marshal or two; get the Bath for your services, and be thanked in general orders,--and I will wager all my _chateau en Espagne_ that everything goes well."
Thus chatting away, sometimes over the past, of our former friends and gay companions, of our days of storm and suns.h.i.+ne; sometimes indulging in prospects for the future, we trotted along, and as the day was breaking, mounted the ridge of low hills, from whence, at the distance of a couple of leagues, the city of Brussels came into view.
CHAPTER LI.
THE d.u.c.h.eSS OF RICHMOND'S BALL.
Whether we regard the ill.u.s.trious and distinguished personages who thronged around, or we think of the portentous moment in which it was given, the d.u.c.h.ess of Richmond's ball, on the night of the 15th of June, 1815, was not only one of the most memorable, but, in its interest, the most exciting entertainment that the memory of any one now living can compa.s.s.
There is always something of no common interest in seeing the bronzed and war-worn soldier mixing in the crowd of light-hearted and brilliant beauty. To watch the eye whose proud glance has flashed over the mail-clad squadrons now bending meekly beneath the look of some timid girl; to hear the voice that, high above the battle or the breeze, has shouted the hoa.r.s.e word "Charge!" now subdued into the low, soft murmur of flattery or compliment. This, at any rate, is a picture full of its own charm; but when we see these heroes of a hundred fights; when we look upon these hardy veterans, upon whose worn brows the whitened locks of time are telling, indulging themselves in the careless gayety of a moment, s.n.a.t.c.hed as it were from the arduous career of their existence, while the tramp of the advancing enemy shakes the very soil they stand on, and where it may be doubted whether each aide-de-camp who enters comes a new votary of pleasure or the bearer of tidings that the troops of the foe are advancing, and already the work of death has begun: this is, indeed, a scene to make the heart throb, and the pulse beat high; this is a moment second in its proud excitement only to the very crash and din of battle itself. And into this entrancing whirlwind of pa.s.sion and of pleasure, of brilliant beauty and enn.o.bled greatness, of all that is lovely in woman and all that is chivalrous and heroic in man, I brought a heart which, young in years, was yet tempered by disappointment; still, such was the fascination, such the brilliancy of the spectacle, that scarcely had I entered, than I felt a change come over me,--the old spirit of my boyish ardor, that high-wrought enthusiasm to do something, to be something which men may speak of, shot suddenly through me, and I felt my cheek tingle and my temples throb, as name after name of starred and t.i.tled officers were announced, to think that to me, also, the path of glorious enterprise was opening.
"Come along, come along," said Power, catching me by the arm, "you've not been presented to the d.u.c.h.ess. I know her. I'll do it for you; or perhaps it is better Sir Thomas Picton should. In any case, _filez_ after me, for the dark-eyed senhora is surely expecting us. There, do you see that dark, intelligent-looking fellow leaning over the end of the sofa? That is Alava.
And there, you know who that is, that _beau ideal_ of a hussar? Look how jauntily he carries himself; see the careless but graceful sling with which he edges through the crowd; and look! Mark his bow! Did you see that, Charley? Did you catch the quick glance he shot yonder, and the soft smile that showed his white teeth? Depend upon it, boy, some fair heart is not the better nor the easier for that look."
"Who is it?" said I.
"Lord Uxbridge, to be sure; the handsomest fellow in the service; and there goes Vandeleur, talking with Vivian; the other, to the left, is Ponsonby."
"But stay, Fred, tell me who that is?" For a moment or two, I had some difficulty in directing his attention to the quarter I desired. The individual I pointed out was somewhat above the middle size; his uniform of blue and gold, though singularly plain, had a look of richness about it; besides that, among the orders which covered his breast, he wore one star of great brilliancy and size. This, however, was his least distinction; for although surrounded on every side by those who might be deemed the very types and pictures of their _caste_, there was something in the easy but upright carriage of his head, the intrepid character of his features, the bold and vigorous flas.h.i.+ng of his deep blue eye, that marked him as no common man. He was talking with an old and prosy-looking personage in civilian dress; and while I could detect an anxiety to get free from a tiresome companion, there was an air of deferential, and even kind attention in his manner, absolutely captivating.
"A thorough gentleman, Fred, whoever he be," said I.
"I should think so," replied Power, dryly; "and as our countrymen would say, 'The Devil thank him for it!' That is the Prince of Orange; but see, look at him now, his features have learned another fas.h.i.+on." And true it was; with a smile of the most winning softness, and with a voice, whose slightly foreign accent took nothing from its interest, I heard him engaging a partner for a waltz.
There was a flutter of excitement in the circle as the lady rose to take his arm, and a muttered sound of, "How very beautiful, quelle est belle, c'est un ange!" on all sides. I leaned forward to catch a glance as she pa.s.sed; it was Lucy Dashwood. Beautiful beyond anything I had ever seen her, her lovely features lit up with pleasure and with pride, she looked in every way worthy to lean upon the arm of royalty. The graceful majesty of her walk, the placid loveliness of her gentle smile, struck every one as she pa.s.sed on. As for me, totally forgetting all else, not seeing or hearing aught around me, I followed her with my eye until she was lost among the crowd, and then, with an impulse of which I was not master, followed in her steps.
"This way, this way," said Power; "I see the senhora." So saying, we entered a little boudoir, where a party was playing at cards. Leaning on the back of a chair, Inez was endeavoring, with that mixture of coquetry and half malice she possessed, to distract the attention of the player. As Power came near, she scarcely turned her head to give him a kind of saucy smile; while, seeing me, she held out her hand with friendly warmth, and seemed quite happy to meet me.
"Do, pray, take her away; get her to dance, to eat ice, or flirt with you, for Heaven's sake!" said the half-laughing voice of her victim. "I have revoked twice, and misdealt four times since she has been here. Believe me, I shall take it as the greatest favor, if you'll--"
As he got thus far he turned round towards me, and I perceived it was Sir George Dashwood. The meeting was as awkward for him as for me; and while a deep flush covered my face, he muttered some unintelligible apology, and Inez burst into a fit of laughter at the ludicrous _contretemps_ of our situation.
"I will dance with you now, if you like," said she, "and that will be punis.h.i.+ng all three. Eh, Master Fred?"
So saying, she took my arm as I led her toward the ball-room.
"And so you really are not friends with the Dashwoods? How very provoking, and how foolish, too! But really, Chevalier, I must say you treat ladies very ill. I don't forget your conduct to me. Dear me, I wish we could move forward, there is some one pus.h.i.+ng me dreadfully!"
"Get on, Ma'am, get on!" said a sharp, decided voice behind me. I turned, half smiling, to see the speaker. It was the Duke of Wellington himself, who, with his eye fixed upon some person at a distance, seemed to care very little for any intervening obstruction. As I made way for him to pa.s.s between us, he looked hardly at me, while he said in a short, quick way,--
"Know your face very well: how d'ye do?" With this brief recognition he pa.s.sed on, leaving me to console Inez for her crushed sleeve, by informing her who had done it.
The ball was now at its height. The waltzers whirled past in the wild excitement of the dance. The inspiriting strains of the music, the sounds of laughter, the din, the tumult, all made up that strange medley which, reacting upon the minds of those who cause it, increases the feeling of pleasurable abandonment, making the old feel young, and the young intoxicated with delight.
As the senhora leaned upon me, fatigued with waltzing, I was endeavoring to sustain a conversation with her; while my thoughts were wandering with my eyes to where I had last seen Lucy Dashwood.
"It must be something of importance; I'm sure it is," said she, at the conclusion of a speech of which I had not heard one word. "Look at General Picton's face!"
"Very pretty, indeed," said I; "but the hair is unbecoming," replying to some previous observation she had made, and still lost in a revery. A hearty burst of laughter was her answer as she gently shook my arm, saying,--
"You really are too bad! You've never listened to one word I've been telling you, but keep continually staring with your eyes here and there, turning this way and looking that, and with a dull, vacant, and unmeaning smile, answering at random, in the most provoking manner. There now, pray pay attention, and tell me what that means." As she said this, she pointed with her fan to where a dragoon officer, in splashed and spattered uniform, was standing talking to some three or four general officers. "But here comes the duke; it can't be anything of consequence."
At the same instant the Duke of Wellington pa.s.sed with the d.u.c.h.ess of Richmond on his arm.
"No, d.u.c.h.ess; nothing to alarm you. Did you say ice?"
"There, you heard that, I hope!" said Inez; "there is nothing to alarm us."
"Go to General Picton at once; but don't let it be remarked," said an officer, in a whisper, as he pa.s.sed close by me.
"Inez, I have the greatest curiosity to learn what that new arrival has to say for himself; and if you will permit me, I'll leave you with Lady Gordon for one moment--"
"Delighted, of all things. You are without exception, the most tiresome--Good-by."
"Sans adieu," said I, as I hurried through the crowd towards an open window, on the balcony outside of which Sir Thomas Picton was standing.
"Ah, Mr. O'Malley, have you a pencil? There, that'll do. Ride down to Etterbeeck with this order for G.o.dwin. You have heard the news, I suppose, that the French are in advance? The Seventy-ninth will muster in the Grando Place. The Ninety-second and the Twenty-eighth along the Park and the Boulevard. Napoleon left Fresnes this morning. The Prussians have fallen back. Zeithen has been beaten. We march at once."
"To-morrow, sir?"
"No, sir, to-night. There, don't delay! But above all, let everything be done quietly and noiselessly. The duke will remain here for an hour longer to prevent suspicion. When you've executed your orders, come back here."
I mounted the first horse I could find at the door, and galloped with top speed over the heavy causeway to Etterbeeck. In two minutes the drum beat to arms, and the men were mustering as I left. Thence I hastened to the barracks of the Highland Brigade and the 28th Regiment; and before half an hour, was back in the ball-room, where, from the din and tumult, I guessed the scene of pleasure and dissipation continued unabated. As I hurried up the staircase a throng of persons were coming down, and I was obliged to step aside to let them pa.s.s.
"Ah, come here, pray," said Picton, who, with a lady cloaked and hooded leaning upon his arm, was struggling to make way through the crowd. "The very man!"
"Will you excuse me if I commit you to the care of my aide-de-camp, who will see you to your carriage? The duke has just desired to see me." This he said in a hurried and excited tone; and the same moment beckoned to me to take the lady's arm.
It was with some difficulty I succeeded in reaching the spot, and had only time to ask whose carriage I should call for, ere we arrived in the hall.
"Sir George Dashwood's," said a low, soft voice, whose accents sank into my very heart. Heaven! it was Lucy herself; it was her arm that leaned on mine, her locks that fluttered beside me, her hand that hung so near, and yet I could not speak. I tried one word; but a choking feeling in my throat prevented utterance, and already we were upon the door-steps.
Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume Ii Part 61
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Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume Ii Part 61 summary
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