"Waterloo!" said he, rousing himself.... "Ay, dearest Mrs. Barnaby, I will tell you that, though there are many reasons which render me very averse to speak of it lightly. In the first place, by those who know me not, it might be thought to look like boasting; and, moreover, if I alluded to it in any society capable of the baseness of repeating what I said, it might bring upon me very active, and indeed fatal, proofs of the dislike—I may say hatred—already felt against me in a certain quarter."
"Gracious heaven, Major!... be careful then, I implore you, before whom you speak! There appear to be many strangers here, of whose characters it is impossible to know anything.... If you have enemies, they may be spies expressly sent to watch you."
"I sometimes think so, I assure you.... I catch such singular looks occasionally, as nothing else can account for; and the enemy I allude to is one who has power, as well as will, to punish by evil reports, if he cannot positively crush and ruin, those who interfere with his ambition."
"Is it possible? Thank heaven! at least you can have no doubt of me.... So, tell me, I beseech you to tell me, to whom is it that your alarming words refer?"
The Major drew his chair close to Mrs. Barnaby, took one of her hands between both of his, and having gazed for a moment very earnestly in her face, whispered,—
"The Duke of Wellington!"
"Good God!..." exclaimed the widow, quite in an agony: "the Duke of Wellington! Is the Duke of Wellington your enemy, Major Allen?"
"To the teeth, my fairest! to the teeth!" replied the Major, firmly setting the instruments he mentioned, and muttering through them with an appearance of concentrated rage, the outward demonstration of which was increased by the firmness of the grasp in which he continued to hold her hand.
"But how can this be so?" faltered Mrs. Barnaby.... "So brave a man as you!... one, too, who had distinguished himself so early! How can he be so base?"
"How can he be otherwise, my friend?" replied the Major with increasing agitation, "when" ... and here he lowered his voice still more, whispering almost in her very ear, "it is I—I,—Ferdinand Alexander Allen, who ought by right to be the Duke of Wellington, instead of him who now wears the title!"