Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume I Part 46

"Looked twenty times more bewitching than ever. Well, it was just the hour when, opening the last two b.u.t.tons of your white waistcoat (remember we were in Jamaica), you stretch your legs to the full extent, throw your arm carelessly over the back of your chair, look contemplatively towards the ceiling, and wonder, within yourself, why it is not all 'after dinner' in this same world of ours. Such, at least, were my reflections as I a.s.sumed my att.i.tude of supreme comfort, and inwardly e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed a health to Sneyd and Barton. Just at this moment I heard Polly's voice gently whisper,--

"'Isn't he a love? Isn't he a darling?'

"'Zounds!' thought I, as a pang of jealousy shot through my heart, 'is it the major she means?' For old Belson, with his bag wig and rouged cheeks, was seated on the other side of her.

"'What a dear thing it is!' said Polly.

"'Worse and worse,' said I; 'it must be him.'

"'I do so love his muzzy face.'

"'It is him!' said I, throwing off a b.u.mper, and almost boiling over with pa.s.sion at the moment.

"'I wish I could take one look at him,' said she, laying down her head as she spoke.

"The major whispered something in her ear, to which she replied,--

"'Oh, I dare not; papa will see me at once.'

"'Don't be afraid, Madam,' said I, fiercely; 'your father perfectly approves of your taste.'

"'Are you sure of it?' said she, giving me such a look.

"'I know it,' said I, struggling violently with my agitation.

"The major leaned over as if to touch her hand beneath the cloth. I almost sprang from my chair, when Polly, in her sweetest accents, said,--

"'You must be patient, dear thing, or you may be found out, and then there will be such a piece of work. Though I'm sure, Major, you would not betray me.' The major smiled till he cracked the paint upon his cheeks. 'And I am sure that Mr. Monsoon--'

"'You may rely upon me,' said I, half sneeringly.

"The major and I exchanged glances of defiance, while Polly continued,--

"'Now, come, don't be restless. You are very comfortable there. Isn't he, Major?' The major smiled again more graciously than before, as he added,--

"'May I take a look?'

"'Just one peep, then, no more!' said she, coquettishly; 'poor dear Wowski is so timid.'

"Scarcely had these words borne balm and comfort to my heart,--for I now knew that to the dog, and not to my rival, were all the flattering expressions applied,--when a slight scream from Polly, and a tremendous oath from the major, raised me from my dream of happiness.

"'Take your foot down, sir. Mr. Monsoon, how could you do so?' cried Polly.

"'What the devil, sir, do you mean?' shouted the major.

"'Oh, I shall die of shame,' sobbed she.

"'I'll shoot him like a riddle,' muttered old Belson.

"By this time the whole table had got at the story, and such peals of laughter, mingled with suggestions for my personal maltreatment, I never heard. All my attempts at explanation were in vain. I was not listened to, much less believed; and the old colonel finished the scene by ordering me to my quarters, in a voice I shall never forget, the whole room being, at the time I made my exit, one scene of tumultuous laughter from one end to the other. Jamaica after this became too hot for me. The story was repeated on every side; for, it seems, I had been sitting with my foot on Polly's lap; but so occupied was I with my jealous vigilance of the major I was not aware of the fact until she herself discovered it.

"I need not say how the following morning brought with it every possible offer of _amende_ upon my part; anything from a written apology to a proposition to marry the lady I was ready for, and how the matter might have ended I know not; for in the middle of the negotiations, we were ordered off to Halifax where, be a.s.sured, I abandoned my Oriental att.i.tude for many a long day after."

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

THE LANDING.

What a contrast to the dull monotony of our life at sea did the scene present which awaited us on landing in Lisbon. The whole quay was crowded with hundreds of people eagerly watching the vessel which bore from her mast the broad ensign of Britain. Dark-featured, swarthy, mustached faces, with red caps rakishly set on one side, mingled with the Saxon faces and fair-haired natives of our own country. Men-of-war boats plied unceasingly to and fro across the tranquil river, some slender reefer in the stern-sheets, while behind him trailed the red pennon of some "tall admiral."

The din and clamor of a mighty city mingled with the far-off sounds of military music; and in the vistas of the opening street, ma.s.ses of troops might be seen in marching order; and all betokened the near approach of war.

Our anchor had scarcely been dropped, when an eight-oar gig, with a mids.h.i.+pman steering, came alongside.

"s.h.i.+p ahoy, there! You've troops on board?"

"Ay, ay, sir."

Before the answer could be spoken, he was on the deck.

"May I ask," said he, touching his cap slightly, "who is the officer in command of the detachment?"

"Captain Power; very much at your service," said Fred, returning the salute.

"Rear-Admiral Sir Edward Douglas requests that you will do him the favor to come on board immediately, and bring your despatches with you."

"I'm quite ready," said Power, as he placed his papers in his sabretasche; "but first tell us what's doing here. Anything new lately?"

"I have heard nothing, except of some affair with the Portuguese,--they've been drubbed again; but our people have not been engaged. I say, we had better get under way; there's our first lieutenant with his telescope up; he's looking straight at us. So, come along. Good-evening, gentlemen." And in another moment the sharp craft was cutting the clear water, while Power gayly waved us a good-by.

"Who's for sh.o.r.e?" said the skipper, as half-a-dozen boats swarmed around the side, or held on by their boat-hooks to the rigging.

"Who is not?" said Monsoon, who now appeared in his old blue frock covered with tarnished braiding, and a c.o.c.ked hat that might have roofed a paG.o.da.

"Who is not, my old boy? Is not every man among us delighted with the prospect of fresh prog, cool wine, and a bed somewhat longer than four feet six? I say, O'Malley! Sparks! Where's the adjutant? Ah, there he is! We'll not mind the doctor,--he's a very jovial little fellow, but a d.a.m.ned bore, _entre nous_; and we'll have a cosy little supper at the Rue di Toledo. I know the place well. Whew, now! Get away, boy. Sit steady, Sparks; she's only a c.o.c.klesh.e.l.l. There; that's the Plaza de la Regna,--there, to the left. There's the great cathedral,--you can't see it now. Another seventy-four! Why there's a whole fleet here! I wish old Power joy of his afternoon with old Douglas."

"Do you know him then, Major?"

"Do I?--I should rather think I do. He was going to put me in irons here in this river once. A great shame it was; but I'll tell you the story another time. There, gently now; that's it. Thank G.o.d! once more upon land. How I do hate a s.h.i.+p; upon my life, a sauce-boat is the only boat endurable in this world."

We edged our way with difficulty through the dense crowd, and at last reached the Plaza. Here the numbers were still greater, but of a different cla.s.s: several pretty and well-dressed women, with their dark eyes twinkling above their black mantillas as they held them across their faces, watched with an intense curiosity one of the streets that opened upon the square.

In a few moments the band of a regiment was heard, and very shortly after the regular tramp of troops followed, as the Eighty-seventh marched into the Plaza, and formed a line.

The music ceased; the drums rolled along the line; and the next moment all was still. It was really an inspiriting sight to one whose heart was interested in the career, to see those gallant fellows, as, with their bronzed faces and stalwart frames, they stood motionless as a rock. As I continued to look, the band marched into the middle of the square, and struck up, "Garryowen." Scarcely was the first part played, when a tremendous cheer burst from the troop-s.h.i.+p in the river. The welcome notes had reached the poor fellows there; the well-known sounds that told of home and country met their ears; and the loud cry of recognition bespoke their hearts' fulness.