University of Virginia Library

25. CHAPTER XXV.
GENERALSHIP OF DON MOUSTACHIO.

When the Hall chariot drove up to the residence of Mr.
Lee on the succeeding day, it contained—in addition to the
squire, Miss Alethea and Kate—Mr. Effingham. He was
perfectly calm, though a little paler than usual, and greeted
the ladies with calm and proud courtesy. Mr. Lee was
delighted to see them,—exhibiting much more satisfaction,
indeed, than might have been expected from one merely discharging
the stereotyped duties of a host: and soon the
squire and himself were engaged in an obstinate political
dispute, which was carried on with various brandishings of
the arms, contortions of the visage and flirting of the coat-skirts.
But let not the reader imagine that because we have
made the squire and Mr. Lee, whenever this narrative has
brought them together, dispute vehemently, this disputing is
a radical peculiarity of the country gentleman always,—no:
he sometimes converses, and does not argue. But those
were troublous times, and men's minds were agitated; and
whenever the Virginia mind is agitated it brandishes the
weapons of oratory, before donning the instruments of national
warfare.

But there was another reason, at least in the case of Mr.
Lee, for this propensity to talk. Captain Waters had not
made his appearance since some days before the races, and
the old gentleman missed the loud-voiced soldier. The
“Virginia Gazette” and the talk of the girls was a bad substitute,
and Mr. Lee now opposed every thing the squire
said for the pure sake of talking. For it is well known that
people who dispute talk the most and the loudest.

In the middle, however, of a lengthy and involved sentence,
which was trampling disdainfully on Lindley Murray,
Mr. Lee found himself greeted by a martial and courteous
voice, which said:

“A charming day, sir!”

And Captain Ralph entered, caressing his moustache and
distributing smiles. Behind him came Willie, who had

begged off from the parson and followed Kate with devoted
love.

There was a general shaking of hands, and after some
desultory conversation, dinner succeeded. After the meal,
the various members of the party began conversing. Mr.
Lee and the squire sat in the porch smoking their pipes and
brandishing their arms, starting up and removing their legs
from the balustrade when the fire of the pipes fell on them in
the heat of debate, and from time to time replenishing, and
lighting the cob pipes with a coal, brought by an ingenui
vultus puer ingenuique pudoris of the African race, on
a two-pronged fork. When the pipes were refilled, these
politicians commenced puffing and arguing with new zest.

Mr. Effingham and Clare had walked out into the garden:
the Captain, before issuing forth also with Miss Alethea
and Henrietta, passed a few moments conversing with Kate,
who sat by him on the sofa, the object of Willie's devoted
regards.

“Ah, Monsieur Willie,” he said, “I am pleased to see
you: and you, petite mam'selle,” he added with a laugh to
Kate, “or signorina, or signoretta as the Italians say when
they wish to address a very pretty, bright-faced little lady:
are you well—bien aise?”

“Merci, monsieur! parfaitement!” cried Kate, laughing,
and to Willie's profound consternation.

“Ah! possible? you speak French?” said the delighted
Captain.

“No, no, sir,” said Kate, smiling merrily, “that is all I
know: please don't speak to me in any thing but English.”

The Captain liked the fresh child's face, and said:

“I will not, then: but indeed, little miss, I ought to be
allowed to use French to describe to you the little Alsatian
girls—charming little creatures—whom you resemble: especially
in costume.”

Kate assumed a delightful little womanly air, and replied
primly:

“Oh, sir, that about the costume spoils all. Do they
dress like me—in Alsatia? Where is that, sir?”

“On the Rhine, petite mam'selle, and the costume is like
yours. Handsome colored dress, laced in front and ornamented
with ribbons—fluttering, morbleu! like flags! skirt,

I believe they call it, looped back just so, like your own, and
this skirt very short like your own again; hair, lastly, unpowdered
and parted in the middle.”

“Oh, my next dresses are going to be made long,” said
Kate, “and papa says I shall have my hair powdered.”

“Ah! that will spoil the likeness! You should see your
counterparts, Mam'selle Kate, with their water-jars on their
heads, coming from the fountains singing.”

“They must be very pretty,” said Kate, and then she
added quickly, laughing and covering her mouth, “indeed I
didn't mean that! you know I did not, sir!”

The Captain laughed heartily, and saying, “parbleu! I
think it very true, they are like you and are very pretty little
creatures!” turned to the elder ladies.

Willie cast gloomy and jealous looks at Kate, and made
signs to the effect that he did not admire Captain Waters, and
would like to engage in single combat with that gentleman.

“Aint you ashamed!” said Kate, “to be doing so!”

“Who is this individual?” said Willie, with a grand
air.

“Captain Waters, sir. You know that very well.”

“Hum!” said Willie.

“You are jealous!”

“I aint.”

“To be quarrelling with every body who speaks to me.
You ought to be ashamed of yourself, and I like Captain
Waters a thousand times better than you. He laughs with
me, and you do nothing but quarrel.”

Willie looked so much hurt and mortified at these harsh
words, that Kate relented, and said:

“Now Willie—don't be angry—you know how much I
like you.”

Willie refused to be comforted.

“I didn't mean I liked him better than you.”

Willie shook his head.

“For you know you are my sweetheart,” added Kate
with a fatal glance of her bright eyes.

Willie brightened.

“Am I?” he said.

“Yes indeed.”

Willie put his hand into his bosom, drew out the true
love indenture, and unrolling it, said solemnly:

“Sign it?”

Kate burst out laughing, and cried, “Oh no! no! I am
not of age, sir! See they are looking at us and laughing.
Oh Willie! and there's Mr. Hamilton.”

Willie rolled up the contract with a deep sigh, and then
followed Kate out into the grove.

Mr. Hamilton entered just as the colloquy ended, smiling,
good-humored, shaking every body by the hand. The
moment he made his appearance, Captain Waters, with consummate
generalship, offered his arm to Henrietta, bore her
off with a triumphant smile, and disappeared.

But two observations had passed between the gentlemen.

“Bon jour, Seigneur Mort-Reynard!”

“Why, good day, Don Moustachio!”

The former was uttered by the Captain, with malicious
courtesy and a low bow; the latter observation was characterized
by a defeated and humbled look, which we suspect
was somewhat affected by Mr. Jack Hamilton. The explanation
of all this was, that Mr. Hamilton had mentioned
Miss Alethea among the list of ladies who were the enemies
and lecturers of bachelors, in the Captain's hearing, a few
days before; and now the Captain, by his rapid and consummate
strategy, left him to make himself agreeable to the
lecturing lady, while he, the soldier, with his head erect, his
breast shaking with laughter, bore off Henrietta.