"Sir," replied Miss Spriggins, startled, yet far from displeased, "I really know not what answer to make to this most extraordinary——"
"Extraordinary, madam? Is it extraordinary to admire beauty—to reverence perfection—to live but in the hope of again seeing her who, once seen, can never be forgotten—is this extraordinary? If so, then am I the most extraordinary of men. Revered Priscilla,—Miss Spriggins, I should say,—your beauty has undone me. I should have joined my regiment at Carlisle ere now; but you, and you only, have kept me lingering in this sylvan district. Ah, lady! Captain Felix O'Flam was happy till he saw you,—happy, even though deceived by one whom he once thought his friend."
The fair Priscilla, whose predominant infirmity, as has been before observed, was an indigestion of celibacy, could not witness the affliction of the dashing young man before her, without sympathising with him; perceiving which, Dick continued, "I see you pity me, lady, and your pity would be still more profound did you know all. It is no later than last week that I became acquainted with the arts of an adventurer named Spragge, who, for months previously, having wormed himself into my confidence, had led me to believe that——"
"Spragge!" interrupted Miss Spriggins with a look of huge dismay; "and pray what sort of a person may he have been?"
In reply, Dick described Sam to the life; whereupon his companion, no longer able to conceal her rage, exclaimed abruptly, "The wretch!—what an escape have I had!"
"Escape, madam! How so? Has the villain dared to deceive you, as he has me? I know that he is one of those plausible, unprincipled adventurers about town, who make a point of preying on the unwary—and such he must have considered me, when he introduced himself one morning as a relation of the commanding officer of my regiment;—but that he should have presumed to——"
"Oh no, captain," replied Miss Spriggins with evident embarrassment; "I was never his dupe. He merely called,—if indeed it be the same person, as I feel convinced it is,—one day last week at my brother's, on some pretence or other, which—which—But I have done with him, the monster!"
"Call on you, madam!" replied Dick, adroitly giving in to the lady's little deviation from fact, "call on you, when I dared not approach your threshold! But enough—I'll cut his throat!"
"No, no, captain; believe me, he is unworthy of your revenge."
"You say right, madam; for, since I have found reason to suspect him, I have instituted inquiries into his character, and am told that he is beneath contempt. Why—would you believe it?—the fellow has been twice ducked in a horse-pond, for thimble-rigging, at Epsom,—flogged at the cart's tail for petty larceny, rubbed down with vinegar and set in the black-hole to dry."