Historical Novels & Novellas of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Arthur Conan DoyleЧитать онлайн книгу.
out to sea. I still saw that little red spot on the deck, and de Lapp standing beside her. They could see me also, for I was outlined against the sky, and they both waved their hands for a long time, but gave it up at last when they found that I would give them no answer.
I stood with my arms folded, feeling as glum as ever I did in my life, until their cutter was only a square hickering patch of white among the mists of the morning. It was breakfast time and the porridge upon the table before I got back, but I had no heart for the food. The old folk had taken the matter coolly enough, though my mother had no word too hard for Edie; for the two had never had much love for each other, and less of late than ever.
“There’s a letter here from him,” said my father, pointing to a note folded up on the table; “it was in his room. Maybe you would read it to us.”
They had not even opened it; for, truth to tell, neither of the good folk were very clever at reading ink, though they could do well with a fine large print.
It was addressed in big letters to “The good people of West Inch;” and this was the note, which lies before me all stained and faded as I write:
“My friends,—
I didn’t thought to have left you so suddenly, but the matter was in other hands than mine. Duty and honour have called me back to my old comrades. This you will doubtless understand before many days are past. I take your Edie with me as my wife; and it may be that in some more peaceful time you will see us again at West Inch. Meanwhile, accept the assurance of my affection, and believe me that I shall never forget the quiet months which I spent with you, at the time when my life would have been worth a week at the utmost had I been taken by the Allies. But the reason of this you may also learn some day.”
“Yours,”
“BONAVENTURE DE LISSAC”
“(Colonel des Voltigeurs de la Garde, et aide-decamp de S.M.I. L’Empereur Napoleon.”)
I whistled when I came to those words written under his name; for though I had long made up my mind that our lodger could be none other than one of those wonderful soldiers of whom we had heard so much, who had forced their way into every capital of Europe, save only our own, still I had little thought that our roof covered Napoleon’s own aide-decamp and a colonel of his Guard.
“So,” said I, “de Lissac is his name, and not de Lapp. Well, colonel or no, it is as well for him that he got away from here before Jim laid hands upon him. And time enough, too,” I added, peeping out at the kitchen window, “for here is the man himself coming through the garden.”
I ran to the door to meet him, feeling that I would have given a deal to have him back in Edinburgh again. He came running, waving a paper over his head; and I thought that maybe he had a note from Edie, and that it was all known to him. But as he came up I saw that it was a big, stiff, yellow paper which crackled as he waved it, and that his eyes were dancing with happiness.
“Hurrah, Jock!” he shouted. “Where is Edie? Where is Edie?”
“What is it, man?” I asked.
“Where is Edie?”
“What have you there?”
“It’s my diploma, Jock. I can practise when I like. It’s all right. I want to show it to Edie.”
“The best you can do is to forget all about Edie,” said I.
Never have I seen a man’s face change as his did when I said those words.
“What! What d’ye mean, Jock Calder?” he stammered.
He let go his hold of the precious diploma as he spoke, and away it went over the hedge and across the moor, where it stuck flapping on a whin-bush; but he never so much as glanced at it. His eyes were bent upon me, and I saw the devil’s spark glimmer up in the depths of them.
“She is not worthy of you,” said I.
He gripped me by the shoulder.
“What have you done?” he whispered. “This is some of your hanky-panky! Where is she?”
“She’s off with that Frenchman who lodged here.”
I had been casting about in my mind how I could break it gently to him; but I was always backward in speech, and I could think of nothing better than this.
“Oh!” said he, and stood nodding his head and looking at me, though I knew very well that he could neither see me, nor the steading, nor anything else. So he stood for a minute or more, with his hands clenched and his head still nodding. Then he gave a gulp in his throat, and spoke in a queer dry, rasping voice.
“When was this?” said he.
“This morning.”
“Were they married?”
“Yes.”
He put his hand against the door-post to steady himself.
“Any message for me?”
“She said that you would forgive her.”
“May God blast my soul on the day I do! Where have they gone to?”
“To France, I should judge.”
“His name was de Lapp, I think?”
“His real name is de Lissac; and he is no less than a colonel in Boney’s Guards.”
“Ah! he would be in Paris, likely. That is well! That is well!”
“Hold up!” I shouted. “Father! Father! Bring the brandy!”
His knees had given way for an instant, but he was himself again before the old man came running with the bottle.
“Take it away!” said he.
“Have a soop, Mister Horscroft,” cried my father, pressing it upon him. “It will give you fresh heart!”
He caught hold of the bottle and sent it flying over the garden hedge.
“It’s very good for those who wish to forget,” said he; “I am going to remember!”
“May God forgive you for sinfu’ waste!” cried my father aloud.
“And for well-nigh braining an officer of his Majesty’s infantry!” said old Major Elliott, putting his head over the hedge. “I could have done with a nip after a morning’s walk, but it is something new to have a whole bottle whizz past my ear. But what is amiss, that you all stand round like mutes at a burying?”
In a few words I told him our trouble, while Jim, with a grey face and his brows drawn down, stood leaning against the door-post. The Major was as glum as we by the time I had finished, for he was fond both of Jim and of Edie.
“Tut, tut!” said he. “I feared something of the kind ever since that business of the peel tower. It’s the way with the French. They can’t leave the women alone. But, at least, de Lissac has married her, and that’s a comfort. But it’s no time now to think of our own little troubles, with all Europe in a roar again, and another twenty years’ war before us, as like as not.”
“What d’ye mean?” I asked.
“Why, man, Napoleon’s back from Elba, his troops have flocked to him, and Louis has run for his life. The news was in Berwick this morning.”
“Great Lord!” cried my father. “Then the weary business is all to do over again!”
“Aye, we thought we were out from the shadow, but it’s still there. Wellington is ordered from Vienna to the Low Countries, and it is thought that the Emperor will break out first on that side. Well, it’s a bad wind that blows nobody any good. I’ve just had news that I am to join the 71st as senior major.”
I shook hands with our good neighbour on this, for I knew how it had lain upon his mind that he should be a cripple, with no part to play in the world.
“I