46. CHAPTER XLVI.
THE SECRETARY.
For a time, nothing was now heard but the rattle of
plates and glasses, the crying of toasts, the buzz and laughter,
which accompanied the process of doing honor to the
profuse supper.
Then the ladies were conducted back to the ball-room,
the music recommenced, and the assembly, interrupted only
for the moment, went on its way again in triumph. In those
times, a company did not separate because so slight a circumstance
as the sounding of midnight occurred, and the
dancing began more gayly than ever.
St. John was standing listlessly looking on, when Captain
Waters drew his arm into his own, and suggested the propriety
of a glass or a dozen of Canary.
“The fact is,” said the captain, as they went toward the
supper room, “my wife's not here, and I feel like a jolly
bachelor. To let you into a secret, my dear St. John,
Madam Henriette's a terrible personage, and makes me behave
myself. But who goes yonder?”
“Where?”
“There! Why it's Foy! Good evening, comrade!”
And the captain made a sign to the secretary, who, pale
and calm as usual, was gliding among the revelers. He
stopped, and returned the greeting of the soldier with calm
courtesy.
“Why, I'm delighted to see you,” said the captain;
“labors over for the day?”
“My labors, captain? Good evening, Mr. St. John.”
St. John bowed courteously.
“Yes, your writing,” said the soldier; “it must be terribly
trying, this thing of copying all the Governor's proclamations.”
The secretary's keen eye rested steadily for a moment
upon the face of his interlocutor, and then was withdrawn.
“My work is indeed sometimes very exhausting, sir,” he
said.
“See there!” cried the captain, with an innocent air; “I
said so!”
“You said, captain?”
“Why, that this civil life was terribly wearisome!”
The secretary inclined his head.
“And to think that you wouldn't believe me, my dear
Foy, when I told you that our old adventures were far more
attractive and amusing!”
“They were truly very enticing to young men, as we then
were.”
“Reinfels and all, comrade!”
“Ah! that was a misfortune, sir,” said Foy, courteously.
“A misfortune! morbleu, comrade, 't was no such thing.
It was a splendid adventure, and you rose, in my opinion,
immensely after that scene. I repeat, my dear Foy, that I
positively adored you for that blow!”
The secretary again made his deprecating wave of the
hand.
“Come! no disclaimers! no modest expression, as of a
young lady, who says, sweetly, `You take me very much by
surprise, sir—really—la!' I say, comrade, 't was a great
blow, this coup of Reinfels, as I call it! Don't deny it!”
“You are very flattering, captain.”
“Not at all, comrade; I'm merely just. And now mark
my words—are you listening?”
“Yes, Captain Waters.”
“Well, my dear Foy, in future treatises upon swordsmanship,
after the author has described every imaginable lunge,
in carte, in tierce, in guard, semicircle, octave, and flangonet—after
all this, he will write, `To these must be added
the coup used by Captain Foy, in his duel with Captain
Waters at Reinfels, and known as the Coup de Reinfels!'
You see, comrade, 't is really indescribable.”
“Upon my word, Captain Waters, you overwhelm me.”
“No, 't is the truth, and now confess that 't was better to
be fighting over there, with the jolliest comrades to look
on, morbleu, than to be driving a quill here, under the nose
of his Excellency, with such rascally spectators as this
Conolly and others!”
The secretary's eye flashed, and his piercing look tried to
plunge beneath the captain's laughing face and divine his
thoughts. But the soldier preserved the most innocent air,
gazing at Foy with the utmost simplicity and good humor.
The secretary suddenly turned away, and retired, as it
were, into himself.
“I have seen Major Conolly at the palace, it is true, Captain
Waters,” he said, calmly, “but I have not the honor
of his friendship.”
“A back-woodsman, is he not?”
“I do not know, sir.”
“From Pennsylvania?”
“I really regret my inability to deliver any thing, with
certainty, upon the subject, Captain Waters; and now, with
your permission, I will first see his Excellency a moment,
and then retire, as I need rest.”
“A moment!” said the captain; “did you deliver my
message?”
“Your message, sir?”
“To his Excellency, my dear Foy, about the Burgesses,
you know. I experienced a sentiment of real pride, yesterday,
when they were turned out of the capitol, for you
will remember that I requested you to suggest that idea to
his Excellency!”
Under this persevering banter, the calm secretary's pale
countenance did not move.
“Your suggestion escaped my memory, sir,” he said.
“Ah! then 't was not on my account his Excellency dismissed
the youngsters?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, my dear Foy, you are not my friend, and as I
have not had even the least adventure or fight with his Excellency's
handsome guards, commanded by that broad-shouldered
Mr. Lindon, I'm in a furious bad humor. A
soldier, though, should not be discouraged. We may yet
have a little encounter—who knows?”
“All things are possible, Captain Waters,” said the secretary,
calmly; “now I must leave you, sir.”
And with the same impassive air, the pale gentleman inclined
his head, and disappeared in the crowd.
“Go on, snake! go on, conspirator!” said the captain,
looking after him as he was lost in the brilliant undulations
of the excited and uproarious crowd; “I'll yet cross your
sword, and show you something better than the
coup de
Reinfels! Come, my dear St. John, let's get a cup of
Canary. Talking with that fellow makes me choke,
mor-leu!”
And they entered the supper room.
