'Oh, I can't do that,' said the young lady, looking at the gentleman in a sort of languishing, sufficiently expressive, way.

He then, turning to Mrs. B., said: 'Come, Mrs. B., won't you tell us what this knowing dodge is?'

'No, no; don't tell, Mrs. B.!' exclaimed the young lady; 'pray don't. I beg you won't.'

'Miss Freeman is inclined to trust to the power of invisible chains, that's all,' said Mrs. B.

'Oh, that's it, is it?' said the Baronet. 'I should fancy such chains very infirm, and little to be depended on--in fact, I should regard them as utterly worthless and flimsy, except, indeed, they happened to be that kind of flimsy that the fat old banker's widow hung round the neck of young Lord Manners; that might hold.'

'And what kind of chain is it that you describe by this word flimsy?'

'Don't you know?' replied the gentleman. 'I thought everyone knew that.'

'He means a chain of bank-notes,' said Mrs. B. 'A bank-note is with men on the turf, and other cla.s.ses less respectable, termed a "flimsy."'

'And that's the meaning of a "flimsy," is it?' said Miss F.

'Yes, my dear,' returned Mrs. B.; 'that's the meaning.'

'And that's the sort of chain that would, in your opinion, be of force sufficient to restrain a wanderer from straying, is it, Sir Charles?'

'If it is,' interposed Mrs. B., 'I for one don't agree with him.

Experience tells us that all such chains are scarcely ever found binding.'

'But what a mercenary view to take of the matter! I'm sure, Sir Charles, that's not your belief in your heart of hearts. I'm certain you have too much chivalry in you to think so.'

'Well, I don't know,' returned the Baronet; 'I've always thought I had a great deal too much heart, but at any rate I'm sure I haven't more than one. As to the chivalry, if we get a chance at the Russians I may perhaps find out if I've got any, and so perhaps may they.'

'I think, Mrs. B.,' said Miss F., 'I begin to understand your friend Sir Charles; he is one of those who delight in making themselves appear worse than they are, and not only worse, but the very reverse of what they are.'

'Take care,' said Mrs. B., 'that you don't pursue that style of reasoning too far. By following it up you might invest him with all the attributes of an 'Admirable Crichton,' and, after all, find out that he is only Sir Charles Oakley.'

'Oh, but,' said the Baronet, 'she says she has found me out, and thus indirectly a.s.serts that I am supporting an a.s.sumed character.'

'Oh, Sir Charles!' exclaimed the young lady, 'how can you say so? I only said that I thought I began to understand you.'

'Well,' returned the gentleman, 'isn't understanding me finding me out?'

'Oh, but!' returned Miss F., 'you put such a different construction on the words; and I never said or thought you were supporting an a.s.sumed character.'

'Didn't you?' said the Baronet, laughing; 'I thought you did, and if you had, only conceive how wrong you would have been.' The laughter seemed infectious, for Mrs. B. restrained the tendency that beset her with no little difficulty. 'But didn't you say,' continued the Baronet, 'that I was one of those who delighted in making myself appear worse than I was, and not only worse, but the reverse of what I was; and if that is true, is not that supporting an a.s.sumed character?'

'Oh!' replied Miss F., 'you do twist things in such a way, you know I only meant that you might be what I supposed, in spite of your seeming.'

'It seems, then, after all, Miss F.,' said Sir C, 'that you have not found me out, since you persist in believing me to be not only a dragoon and a baronet, but a chivalrous, unselfish, unmercenary sort of fellow, with more hearts than one.'

'More hearts than one was entirely your own, Sir C.,' said Miss F., 'made out by an obvious perversion of language; and with regard to the other matters, I suspect I'm not so wrong as you try to make me appear.'

'It's very ridiculous, isn't it, Mrs. B.?' said Sir C.

'What's ridiculous?' said Miss F.

'Why,' replied Sir C., 'it's very ridiculous to me to find myself ranked so high without deserving it, and credited with a lofty, unmercenary character, because I alluded to the power of bank-notes, to say nothing of being also credited with possessing more hearts than one; while, at the same time, it is a.s.serted, or insinuated, that I am supporting an a.s.sumed character. All this is charmingly ridiculous to my mind.'

'Well, well, it's useless for me to say anything; you will have it all your own way, Sir Charles,' said the young lady, 'and you have managed to misinterpret everything I have said in such a comical manner that I own it is very ridiculous.'

'Capital!' said the Baronet; 'then after all we do agree, which, considering that we have differed in everything, is in itself sufficiently ridiculous, and will, I trust, afford us both ground for laughter for many a day to come.'

'As for me,' said Mrs. B., 'I'm sure the remembrance of this evening will afford me food for laughter whenever it recurs to my mind; and now I'll wish my friends good-night; and then, Sir Charles, I shall be obliged if you'll order my carriage.'

So the party broke up, the secret having been thoroughly well kept, thanks to the vigilance of Colonel and Mrs. G.

As soon, however, as Mrs. C. and her charge departed, there was a general unloosing of tongues, bursts of laughter were unrestrained, and there was much rejoicing over the fun of the evening, and much fresh merriment. The next morning, rather before the customary hour for visiting, Mrs. B. and Lieutenant Mac----ny called on Mrs. C. and Miss Freeman, for the purpose of enlightening them as to the playful deception that had been practised on the previous evening, which Mrs. B.

confessed she had originated. Miss Freeman was at first a little put out, and Mrs. C. was extremely astonished; but very soon both ladies yielded to Mrs. B.'s fascinating manner and strong feeling for fun and frolic, aided by the dragoon's rollicking good-humour and handsome apologies; in short, they were so pleased with their visitors that they quite forgot every feeling of annoyance, and agreed that as the gentleman had supported his a.s.sumed character so well, he was still to be 'Sir Charles' with them, as it is hoped he will be with all who love a harmless joke.

No. IX.

A REMINISCENCE OF TRICHINOPOLY.

To make a scene is generally considered, and really is in most cases, an unfailing method of affording amus.e.m.e.nt to the bystanders, and as this amus.e.m.e.nt is always at the expense of the actors, such performances are very generally avoided. No one willingly, except under unusual and extreme provocation, will run the risk of making himself ridiculous, which making a scene almost always involves. For these reasons exhibitions of this kind are rare, very rare. The fiat of polite society has gone forth; this fiat announces that performances of this kind are forbidden, tabooed. Who is there that has not repeatedly heard, in his or her younger days, that so and so, or anything of that kind, 'is a breach of etiquette;' 'the refinement of the age does not permit it;' or 'good taste and good manners will not sanction such expressions of feeling,' etc.? Yet, notwithstanding all these clearly defined laws, unalterable as those of the Medes and Persians, we know that scenes in high life, as well as in low life, do occur; and sometimes even in military life, despite the stringent restrictions of discipline which are superadded to those already mentioned.

Having by accident, or by good luck, if the reader prefers the latter phrase, been present at an exhibition of this nature, which occurred many years ago at Trichinopoly, and having been much diverted by it, I have endeavoured by the aid of my pen to present it to the reader. I feel painfully the impossibility of conveying by this means what should have been witnessed to be fully appreciated--the looks, the tones, the expression of the faces, the actions, and the att.i.tudes, cannot be given by the pen; and in the attempt to describe them, the essence of the fun, the humour of the scene, evaporates. Even were such a thing possible, the repet.i.tion of such a scene would be tame compared with the original performance. On all these accounts, I trust that the shortcomings of my attempt will be judged with generosity and with leniency. In this hope, I shall strive to the utmost with the difficulties of my task, so that if I cannot achieve success, I may at least fail with some degree of credit.

I shall now, as the first step in the execution of this my self-appointed task, endeavour to describe as accurately as I can the actors and the scene. But it is needful for the full understanding of the comedy that I should also explain (so far as I am cognizant of them) what the circ.u.mstances were that led up to it. The actors were Lieutenant-General Blundermore Bl.u.s.ter, K.C.B., commanding the southern division of the Madras Presidency; and Colonel Prolix Pertinacity, C.B., and V.C. commandant of H.M.'s ---- Regiment of Infantry, stationed at Trichinopoly.

The General was a man of large and burly form, six feet two inches in height, and of proportionate bulk. His countenance expressed unmistakably the high estimation in which he held himself and all his belongings, even his goods and chattels--everything, in fact, that was _his_, and, above all, _his_ views and opinions. These last he seemed to regard almost as things sacred, and not to be questioned. With this was conjoined a manner that expressed a sort of lofty indifference, if not contempt, for all surroundings, both men and things; regarding all those who ventured to differ from him in opinion on any subject as guilty of gross impertinence, as well as bereft of common-sense, the fact of the disagreement proving their folly.

Colonel Prolix Pertinacity was a red-haired gentleman, who stood five feet four inches in his shoes, with a broad bald head, bull neck, and ma.s.sive shoulders, of greater bulk even than the General's, and of such corpulent body that he could almost say with Falstaff that it was a long time since he had seen his own knee. His countenance expressed unconquerable determination, but was nevertheless frank and open when not under excitement; it was also evident that he possessed a fiery, quick, irritable temper, and an undaunted, immovable disposition.

From these outline sketches of these two officers, it may readily be inferred that they did not and could not agree. There had been, indeed, during nearly two years constant misunderstandings and altercations between them, causing unpleasant references to higher authority. Colonel Pertinacity considered himself ill-used, oppressed, and tyrannically dealt with; the General complained of disrespect, and unmilitary conduct almost amounting to insubordination, and generally of behaviour to the prejudice of good order and military discipline. He had on several occasions sent the Colonel home with a public reprimand, and had threatened ulterior proceedings. In reply to the references that had, up to this time, been made, it appeared that his Excellency the Commander-in-Chief of the Madras Army did not take exactly the same view of Colonel P.'s conduct that General Bl.u.s.ter did; at all events, nothing very serious came of the General's references and complaints, and Colonel P. always returned to his duty without having received any damaging reprimand or 'wigging' (as the phrase is) from the higher powers. He was advised to be more cautious and circ.u.mspect in his behaviour towards the General in future, and to avoid if possible any expression capable of misconstruction, and, finally, not to insist on his own view of affairs so determinedly as he seemed to have done, etc., etc. What was said on these occasions to General Bl.u.s.ter was only known to himself, and perhaps to his staff; but as he did not communicate the contents of all the letters received from the Chief, it was strongly surmised that these letters were not all sugar-candy. However this may have been, the general opinion of the officers in the cantonment, and of the society at large, was rather in favour of the Colonel, although some took the part of the General. The argument used by these persons was usually something to this effect: 'Why does Colonel P. persist in maintaining his opinions when they differ from those of the General? If he is ever so right, what does it matter? Why does he not suffer the old gentleman to have his say without contradiction? What can the opinions of any such grand sample of bombastic self-sufficiency signify?' To this it was replied by those who took the part of the Colonel that so long as the General's remarks applied to abstract opinions, or to things in general, it would be wise on the Colonel's part to hear and say nothing; but that the General did not confine himself to any such line, or, indeed, to any line at all, but in the amplitude of his observations frequently made a.s.sertions that bore hard on others, not merely in their capacity as officers, but as men, many of whom, having received a much better education than the speaker, were in a manner called upon to admit his a.s.sertions as facts, although they knew the statements to be erroneous.

Instances of this love of dictation, and the determination to lay down the law on all subjects, whether military or not, were constantly occurring, not seldom to the discredit of the General's scholarship. One day he downfaced young Arnold on a point on which the 'sub' was far ahead of him. The youngster was saying something about platinum to some of the other young lads, who, though they may have been well up in Euclid, and in fortifications, and could give you back accurately all that they had learned about 'momentum, velocity, and the square of distances whether inverse or not,' were not quite so well up in physics or chemical a.n.a.lysis. In reply to one of these young gentlemen who had been asking questions about platinum, Arnold stated that it was an elementary substance, adding that it was one of the sixty-three such substances.

'Hulloa!' cried the General. 'What's that you say, Arnold--sixty-three elements? I fancy your elementary education has been rather neglected, my lad. Don't you know, having so lately come from school, that there are only four elements--air, earth, fire, and water? Why, they knew that as far back as the days of Aristotle!'

Poor Arnold, not knowing the General's ways (he had only just joined), unconsciously replied: 'They don't teach that nowadays, General.' One of the young men who had been at Sandhurst with him whispered Arnold not to say anything; but he, knowing no reason why he should be silent, replied as I have stated, and thereby drew on himself the extreme anger and indignation of the General. 'Do you mean seriously to tell me that, sir?

Do you mean to say that the small men of these days pretend to be wiser than Sir Isaac Newton, the greatest philosopher the world ever produced?

He never said that there were sixty-three elements, and you, a youth not twenty, just free from the pedagogue's ferula--you pretend to be wiser than that great man, and all your seniors beside.'

Arnold was going to say something, when luckily the General stopped him with a violent gesture and angry visage, saying: 'Go home, sir, and if you learn nothing else, learn a little respect for your superiors.' Poor Arnold was kindly hustled out of the mess-house where this little episode occurred, lest, as one of his friends from the Land of Cakes said, 'waur should come of it.'

The General seemed to be partial to Aristotle and his philosophy, although he was not able to read the easiest cla.s.s-book in the original language. He had, however, made acquaintance with the famous old Greek through the medium of translations, and was ever ready to do battle in his defence.

He fought furiously on one occasion to prove that Nature abhors a vacuum, and stormed so violently against those who expressed any doubts as to the accuracy of the dogma, that the innocent old philosopher, who had been at rest since the days of Alexander, might really have thought that his disciple meant to harry him out of his grave, such was the din and uproar made. And when the doctor of the regiment presumed to suggest that Torricelli had proved that it was the pressure of the atmosphere that had produced the phenomena that Aristotle had mistaken for Nature's abhorrence of a vacuum, the unfortunate man received such a torrent of abuse, delivered with such tremendous emphasis and vociferation, and such tremendous gestures, that he was glad to make his escape, as soon as he could find an opportunity, without saying another word. But he did not depart without receiving a closing broadside from the General. 'I should advise you, Mr. Cutter, in future,' said the General, 'to be cautious how you expose yourself to the ridicule of your friends, and to beware of venturing on such a palpable absurdity as to compare a paltry Italian fellow, like your Torricelli, with one of the sages of antiquity; perhaps I might say, considering Aristotle as the founder of the syllogistic method of reasoning, the greatest of those great men.'