“I—badly?”
“Very badly!” guffaws Oliver. “The report was that on receipt of his commission Major Guido Amati went on a most prolonged and excessively hilarious debauch of joy.”
“Good heavens! The infernal villain!”
“He is,” assents Oliver. “It is said Major Guido Amati has the very handsomest mistress in Middelburg.”
“Oh, God of heaven—a mistress!” shudders Guy. [[141]]
“Parbleu! How moral you seem to have got,” jeers Antony.
“He’ll—he’ll ruin me! What an ingrate villain she’ll think me! Damnation! to have my reputation hang upon this drinking debauchee,” falters Guy. Then he cries out: “What shall I do? Advise me, Oliver. I must go to Middelburg and meet him hand to hand; I must kill this fellow before he ruins my every hope of happiness on earth.”
“Don’t,” chuckles Oliver, “for if you kill Major Guido Amati, Hermoine de Alva will go in to mourning.”
“Mourning for him?”
“No, for YOU. If I am not mistaken she loves you very deeply. But your conduct, my dear boy, has given her great unhappiness.” Then in spite of himself the painter bursts into a laugh and jeers: “Diable, I see you doing penance for Major Guido Amati’s sins at the feet of your lady love! But come to supper.”