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Updated: May 31, 2025
"What motive could he have for such unheard-of baseness such barbarity?" cried Mrs. Disbrowe, bursting into tears. "Shall I tell you, madam?" replied Parravicin. "He is tired of you, and has taken this means of ridding himself of you." Mrs. Disbrowe uttered a loud scream, and fell back in the bed.
"In good sooth she is," replied the earl, gazing at her with admiration. "By the nut-brown skin of Cleopatra!" cried Pillichody, "she beats Mrs. Disbrowe, Sir Paul." "I have never seen any one so lovely," said the knight, attempting to press her hand to his lips. "Release me, sir," cried Nizza, struggling to free herself.
We must throw again." "This to decide," cried the young officer, again rattling the dice. "Six!" Parravicin smiled, took the box, and threw ten. "Perdition!" ejaculated Disbrowe, striking his brow with his clenched hand. "What devil tempted me to my undoing? My wife trusted to this profligate! Horror! it must not be!"
I came here to enjoy your triumph; but, egad, I have found so admirable a bubble in that hot-headed Disbrowe, whom I met at the Smyrna, and brought here to while away the time, that I must demand your congratulations upon mine." "You have certainly achieved an easy victory over the husband," returned Wyvil; "and I trust your success with the wife will be commensurate.
As he entered the room, a faint voice issuing from behind the rich damask curtains of the bed, demanded, "Is it you, Disbrowe?" "It is, Margaret," replied Parravicin, setting down the lamp, and speaking with a handkerchief at his mouth, to disguise his voice and conceal his features. "You are late very late," she rejoined, "and I have been ill. I fancied myself dying."
And as he shook the dice with a frenzied air, the major and Lydyard drew near the table, and even Wyvil roused himself to watch the result. "Twelve!" cried Disbrowe, as he removed the box. "My honour is saved! My fortune retrieved Huzza!" "Not so fast," returned Parravicin, shaking the box in his turn. "You were a little too hasty," he added, uncovering the dice. "I am twelve, too.
He would have roared for aid, but a voice, which he instantly recognised, commanded him to keep silence, if he valued his life. "Is your companion in the house?" demanded Disbrowe, in a hollow tone. "I am sorry to say he is, Captain Disbrowe," replied the bully. "I did my best to prevent him, but remonstrance was in vain." "Liar," cried Disbrowe, striking him with his clenched hand.
His wife was still insensible, but the fatal mark that had betrayed the presence of the plague to the knight manifested itself also to him, and he stood like one entranced, until Mrs. Disbrowe, recovering from her swoon, opened her eyes, and, gazing at him, cried "You here! Oh Disbrowe, I dreamed you had deserted me had sold me to another." "Would it were a dream!" replied her husband.
On the honour of a soldier, I am sorry for the wrong I have done you, and will strive to repair it." "Repair it!" shrieked Disbrowe. "It is too late." And seizing the major's arm, he dragged him by main force into the alley. "Help! help!" roared Pillichody. "Would you murder me?"
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