[VOL. II.]
NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1855.
THE GIPSY
[CHAPTER I.]
Nothing shows us, perhaps, the utter blindness in which we are held by fate more completely, than the constant fallacy of our calculations in regard to even the smallest events over which we have not a personal and unlimited control. A letter is put into our hands in a writing that we know; and ere we have broken the seal, fancy, aided by the best efforts of reason, has laid out before us the probable contents: but as soon as the seal is broken, we find the whole as different therefrom as it is possible to imagine. A friend, or a stranger, comes to see us; and ere we can reach the room where he is waiting, imagination has done her work, and given us a full account of the person and his errand. We expect some pleasant meeting, or some glad tidings, and we go but to hear of some bitter loss or sad disappointment.
Thus, as Lord Dewry walked towards the room to which he had directed the servant to conduct Colonel Manners, he did not fail to calculate the cause of his coming. "He is either here," thought the peer, "to apologize for his conduct, in which case I shall treat him with contempt, or he has come to proffer that personal satisfaction which he before refused. I hope the latter; and if so, I shall have a cause sufficient to assign for demanding Edward's immediate rupture with him."
As he thus thought, he opened the door of the saloon in the midst of which Colonel Manners was standing, booted, and spurred, and dusty, from the road; but with that air of ease, composure, and calmness which spoke his character.
"My lord," he said, as soon as the peer entered, "I am obliged very unwillingly to intrude upon you; and, of course, feel more uncomfortable in interrupting you at this unseasonable hour: but the business on which I come admits of no delay."