|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 80
"No, Harry, you did not," quickly rejoined Maria Heywood;
"but I know now whom you mean. It was Waunangee."
"It was," said the ensign--"I know your knowledge of that
fact will change your feelings towards him."
"They are changed--even at this moment, and henceforth
I shall be to him as a sister. Ah! how ungrateful must
I have appeared to the poor fellow. I shall conquer this
silly weakness: I have misunderstood my own impressions,
and it must have been that I have mistaken the influence
Waunangee has had for that which is to be. Call him up
now, Ronayne, and I will cheerfully give him my hand,
and promise to love him as a brother in return for the
devotion he has evinced, not less for you than for my
poor father."
"Time enough, repentant sinner," returned the young
officer, at the same time casting his glance rapidly over
the group of Indians, who were amusing themselves at
various athletic games. "I can see nothing of him. Your
evident displeasure," he added playfully, "has destroyed
his peace, as indeed you might have known from that
plaintive ditty. However, dearest girl, I shall see him
soon, and make him promise to be present this evening at
the nuptials of his friend and sister. Nay, if I had not
engaged Elmsley, I should insist on his being my bridesman."
The only notice taken of this sally was a faint smile
from his companion, who now descended with him from the
rampart and proceeded to the apartments of Mrs. Elmsley,
where her mother and herself had once more been visitors
for the last few days. Here they separated to meet again
in the evening--Ronayne directing his attention to his
various duties, and looking out at intervals for his
young Indian friend.
It was night. No accident had occurred beyond the laceration
of two of Ephraim Giles's fingers, who having that day
been presented with a new suit by the doctor--the fac-simile
in fashion of the old--had been whittling almost in front
of one of the guns when discharged, and lost, with the
skin of his finger, both his stick and his knife. The
sultriness of the day had been succeeded by a cool and
refreshing air. Gaiety and content every where prevailed,
and many were the voices--male and female--that exclaimed,
as allusion was made to the ceremony all knew, to be in
progress: "God bless them, and make them happy, as they
deserve to be." A large tub of whisky-punch, the gift of
the commanding officer, had been brewed by Von Vottenberg,
for their mid-day revel, and this, all had been unanimous
in pronouncing the best medicine the doctor had ever
administered to them; and now in small social messes,
seated round their rude tables, covered with tin goblets,
and pitchers of the same metal--the mothers with their
children at their side or upon their knees, and the
fathers and unmarried men puffing clouds of smoke from
their short pipes--which they filled from two others
placed on an elevated settle--one in each block house
--which the happy Ronayne had given them on the occasion.
Even the guard was moderately supplied, and the sentries
alone, pacing to and fro in their limited walk, felt the
bitterness of privation, as they counted the minutes that
must elapse before they could join in the festivities
which the loud voice and ringing laugh, occasionally
wafted to their ears, told them were in progress.
In the rooms of the commanding officer there was more
than the usual manifestation of the anniversary. All had
dined at an early hour, but a large side-board that stood
in one corner of the council room--always fitted up on
these occasions--was covered with vases containing wines,
liqueurs, juleps, and punches of various kinds--the latter
the work of the indefatigable son of Esculapius, and of
these the host and his guests partook freely, in
commemoration of the day. At the opposite end of the room
had been raised a sort of tribune for the orator of the
day, but as it was intended the address should be impromptu,
no name had been mentioned, nor could any one know, until
the moment when the majority of voices should select him
on whom the office was to devolve. In the fear entertained
by each that he should be the party selected, the glass,
to impart the necessary courage, was not spared. But he
who was not in the room, or of the number of those devoted
to the punch-bowl was the person chosen. As if by one
impulsive consent, Ronayne, who was seated in the inner
room, and discoursing of any thing but politics to his
betrothed, found himself loudly called upon--knew it
was in vain to object--and reluctantly rose in obedience
to the summons.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|