I felt my cheek and my temples boiling like a furnace; my hand trembled as I lifted my coffee to my lips; and I would have given my expected promotion twice over to have had any reasonable ground of quarrel with the speaker.
“Egad, lads,” said Crawfurd, “that’s the very best thing I know about a command. As a bishop is always sure to portion off his daughters with deaneries and rectories, so your knowing old general always marries his among his staff.”
This sally was met with the ready laughter of the subordinates, in which, however little disposed. I was obliged to join.
“You are quite right, sir,” rejoined the pale youth; “and Sir George has no fortune to give his daughter.”
“How came it, Horace, that you got off safe?” said Fitzroy, with a certain air of affected seriousness in his voice and manner. “I wonder they let such a prize escape them.”
“Well, it was not exactly their fault, I do confess. Old Dashwood did the civil towards me, and la belle Lucie herself was condescending enough to be less cruel than to the rest of the staff. Her father threw us a good deal together; and in fact, I believe—I fear—that is—that I didn’t behave quite well.”
“You may rest perfectly assured of it, sir,” said I; “whatever your previous conduct may have been, you have completely relieved your mind on this occasion, and behaved most shamefully.”
Had a shell fallen in the midst of us, the faces around me could not have been more horror-struck than when, in a cool, determined tone, I spoke these few words. Fitzroy pushed his chair slightly back from the table, and fixed his eyes full upon me. Crawfurd grew dark-purple over his whole face and forehead, and looked from one to the other of us without speaking; while the Honorable Horace Delawar, the individual addressed, never changed a muscle of his wan and sickly features, but lifting his eyes slowly from his muffin, lisped softly out,—
“You think so? How very good!”
“General Crawfurd,” said I, the moment I could collect myself sufficiently to speak, “I am deeply grieved that I should so far have forgotten myself as to disturb the harmony of your table; but when I tell you that Sir George Dashwood is one of my warmest friends on earth; that from my intimate knowledge of him, I am certain that gentleman’s statements are either the mere outpourings of folly or worse—”