45. CHAPTER XLV.
THE RIVAL LIEUTENANTS OF THE GUARDS.
“Are you angry with me, cousin?”
St. John, who was talking with his friend, Mr. Hamilton,
felt a hand on his arm from behind. He started, and turning,
saw Bonnybel leaning on the arm of a gentleman.
There was a color in her cheeks, and something like a
pout upon her lips, but the eyes of the young lady were very
sad as she gazed at St. John.
“Angry?” he said recovering from his momentary surprise;
“by no means; why should you think so?”
“Because you've scarce saluted me, and not asked me to
dance.”
And Miss Bonnybel pouted again.
“I am not very gay this evening,” replied the young man.
“I spare your feelings, for I should doubtless weary you.”
“You are very cold!” she murmured, in a tone which he
alone caught, “you look at me as though I were the most
indifferent person in the world to you.”
And the large sad eyes dwelt pensively upon his countenance.
His pulse throbbed, but that was all. He did not speak.
“You forget that long ago, you engaged my hand for a
minuet,” she continued, coloring, “but, doubtless, you have
not thought of me or the engagement.”
“On the contrary, I was coming to claim your hand for
the next. Will you dance with me?”
“Yes,” she said.
The embarrassing conversation was interrupted by the
appearance of Mr. Lindon, who, in his splendid uniform of
lieutenant of the guards, came and saluted, profoundly, the
young lady.
“May I have the honor of dancing the next minuet with
you, madame?” he said.
“I have just engaged myself to my cousin, Mr. St. John,
sir,” she replied, coldly.
The two men looked at each other with that expression
which indicates concealed hostility, and bowed low.
“Then I trust I may have the pleasure of presenting Miss
Vane to the countess and his Excellency,” continued Lindon.
“Pray excuse me, sir. I propose going up with my father.”
Lindon's head rose proudly.
“I am unfortunate in my requests,” he said, “but at least
I may hope to secure Miss Vane's hand for the next quadrille.”
“I am engaged, sir.”
“For the next, then.”
“It is very fatiguing.”
Lindon's face colored with anger, and with a haughty toss
of the head, he said,
“I regret that Miss Vane should regard me with personal
dislike.”
“I am sorry I have offended you, sir; it gives me no
pleasure to wound any one's feelings.”
“Miss Vane's theory and practice slightly differ.”
St. John had been chafing for some moments at Lindon's
tone. He now raised his finger, coldly, and said,
“You must be aware, sir, that this conversation is disagreeable
to Miss Vane. I insist on its terminating at
once.”
The flush of anger deepened upon Lindon's face, and he
was about to reply, when the musicians struck up a minuet.
Bonnybel hastily took her cousin's arm, and led him to the
dance. In all their movements they were followed by the
glittering and sinister eyes of Lindon, and the expression of
his face indicated profound rage.
But this rage was destined to be further increased.
As the minuet ended, a sudden burst of laughter, at the
door of the apartment, attracted the attention of every one,
and all eyes were turned upon Lindon.
“Pray what's the jest yonder, Captain Waters?” said
St. John to that gentleman who stood near; “something
seems to amuse the company.”
“Ah, farceur!” cried the captain, twirling his huge mustache,
and making a low salute to Bonnybel, “do you deny
that you are the originator of this comedy—this excellent,
admirable comedy?”
“Comedy?”
“Farce! harlequinade! what you please!” cried the captain,
laughing, “and see if my opinion is not that of all!”
As he spoke, all eyes were turned upon St. John. The
young man's brows contracted, and desiring that Bonnybel
might not share this strange publicity, he surrendered her
to the protection of the other.
“Right! right!” said the captain, shaking with laughter;
“search! investigate! find out, my dear fellow!”
“I certainly shall.”
And pushing through the crowd, St. John gained the
door of the apartment. He stopped suddenly.
In the door of the ball-room, with the serene air of one
who considers himself worth looking at, stood St. John's
servant, Julius. The negro wore a uniform exactly similiar
to Mr. Lindon's. It had been tossed to him scornfully by
his master, after the scene at the palace, and Julius now
donned it for the purpose of shining in the eyes of his fellow
servants.
Attracted to the door of the ball-room by his natural love
for sight-seeing, Julius had been seen by the company, and
as neither Mr. Lindon nor the guards were very popular,
the sight had been greeted with uproarious laughter.
St. John could not repress a grim smile at the superb attitude
of Julius, but this instantly gave way to displeasure.
He advanced with a gathering frown, and the first intimation
which the sable gentleman had of the presence of his
master, was the vigorous application of the flat of a dress
sword to his shoulders.
“Go and take off that suit this instant, rascal!” said St.
John. “Go!”
Julius disappeared. He did not utter a word, or walk, or
run, he vanished, amid a peal of laughter.
St. John immediately sought with his eye for Mr. Lindon;
his intention being to make that gentleman an explanation
and apology. He saw his rival glaring at him with a
face pale with rage, but the crowd separated them. St.
John was borne to the side of Lord Dunmore.
“Pray, what was the occasion of that laughter?” his
lordship was saying to a gentleman near at hand.
“A strange spectacle, my lord,” was the reply; “ 't was
a negro clad precisely like the lieutenant of the guards, in a
laced uniform, with epaulettes.”
“Are you jesting, sir?” cried Dunmore, with flashing
eyes; “the costume of Mr. Lindon?”
“Precisely, my lord.”
Dunmore's face flushed with wrath, and the black vein
swelled.
“Whence this impudent outrage?” he cried; “answer
me, gentlemen! Who will explain this base insult to myself
and my authority?”
“I will, my lord,” said St. John, approaching and bowing.
“I regret to say that I am the cause of the outrage.”
“Ah you!—you, Mr. St. John!” cried the Governor,
glaring on the young man, almost speechless with rage;
“you again cross my path!”
“My lord, I did not come to be insulted, but to explain.
If you permit me, I can do so very briefly.”
And seeing that the Governor's wrath was too great for
him to speak, he added:
“The explanation is simple. Having resigned my commission
in your lordship's service, I had no further use for
my uniform, and my servant fell heir to it, in common with
all others which I decide to wear no longer. He has donned
the suit to-night, from a childish desire, no doubt, to excite
admiration. I need scarcely say that his intention was unknown
to me, and to-morrow I shall punish him. I am sorry
that I even seem to have any agency in so stupid and ill-bred
a jest, and shall explain to Mr. Lindon, and eutreat
his pardon.”
The young man bowed low as he ended, and left Lord
Dunmore as he uttered a hoarse growl of anger.
At the same moment, supper was announced, and this important
event proved a complete diversion to the company
from the enjoyment of the farce. But it continued to be
food for laughter long afterward.
