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Updated: August 8, 2024
The old Doctor laughed cheerily. "Well: but did you kill your fox?" "All right: but it was a burster, just what I always tell Mr. Stangrave. Afternoon runs are good runs; pretty sure of an empty fox and a good scent after one o'clock." "Exactly," answered a fresh voice from behind; "and fox-hunting is an epitome of human life.
"What I have done, I have undone!" said Stangrave, looking up. "If I have wronged her, I have offered to right her; if I have left her, I have sought her again; and if I left her when I knew nothing, now that I know all, I ask her here, before you, to become my wife!" Tom looked inquiringly at Marie. "Yes; I have told him all all?" and she hid her face in her hands. "Well," said Tom, "Mr.
Stangrave looked, and joined in the general laugh of lieutenant, waiters, priests, and bourgeoises.
"It is certainly der Palmerston," thinks he, "his manners are so polite." Once at the crater edge, and able to see into the pit, the mystery is, in part at least, explained: for there stand not only Stangrave and Bursch number two, but a second gendarme, two elderly gentlemen, two ladies, and a black boy. One is Lieutenant D , by his white moustache.
This is the end of all his fine resolves! Pah! what use in them? What use in being a martyr in this world? All men are liars, and all women too! Tom and Stangrave stand a little apart from each other, while one of the seconds paced the distance. He steps out away from them, across the crater floor, carrying Tom's revolver in his hand, till he reaches the required point, and turns.
"Well," drawled Stangrave, feigning an ostentatious yawn, "I believe the wise method of ridding oneself of impertinents is to grant their requests. Have you pistols? I have none." "I have both duellers and revolvers at your service." "Ah? I think we'll try the revolvers then," said Stangrave, savage from despair, and disbelief in all human goodness.
Der Herr Lieutenant will be only too happy;" and in ten minutes der Herr Lieutenant appears, really only too happy; and Stangrave finds himself at once in the company of a soldier and a gentleman. Had their acquaintance been a longer one, he would have recognised likewise the man of taste and of piety.
Stangrave could not well call the man of war to account for his impertinence; he had had his toes half crushed, and had a right to indemnify himself as he thought fit. And with a hundred more apologies, Stangrave prepared to dart across the bridge as soon as it was closed.
Stangrave knows them all as far as any man can know. The wards of the key which locks apart the nations; the yet maiden Troy of Europe; the greatest fortress of the world. He walks down, turns into the vineyards, and lies down beneath the mellow shade of vines. He has no sketch-book articles forbidden; his passport is in his pocket; and he speaks all tongues of German men.
Stangrave stamped with rage upon a Prussian officer's thin boot. "Ten thousand pardons!" "You are excused, dear sir, you are excused," says the good-natured German, with a wicked smile, which raises a blush on Stangrave's cheek. "Your eyes were dazzled; why not? it is not often that one sees two such suns together in the same sky. But calm yourself; the boat stops at Coblentz."
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