Part 5 (2/2)
”Our eccentric Cousin Bill! You don't say so? Well, there's no fool like an old fool,” said Lord Essendine, who was a very matter-of-fact, plain-spoken peer.
”I always thought she was an adventuress,” cried Lady Essendine, angrily.
”Then why did you take her up so hotly? But for you, no one would ever have heard of the woman, least of all Cousin Bill.”
”Well, I have done with her now. I shall drop her.”
”The mischief's done. Unless I am much mistaken, she won't drop Cousin Bill.”
Lord Essendine, who was, perhaps, behind the scenes, was not wrong in his estimate of the influence Madame Cyprienne exercised. Before six months were out, Colonel Wilders came, with rather a sheepish air, to the head of the house, and informed him of his approaching marriage to the Countess de Saint Clair.
”That's a new t.i.tle to me, Bill. Foreign, I suppose?” Lord Essendine had the usual contempt of the respectable Briton for t.i.tles not mentioned in Debrett or Burke.
”It's French, I fancy; and for the moment it is in abeyance. Madame Cyprienne tells me--”
”Gracious powers, William Wilders! have you fallen into that woman's clutches?”
”I must ask you, Lord Essendine, to speak more respectfully of the lady I propose to make my wife.”
”You had better not! I warn you while there is yet time.”
”What do you know against her?” asked the colonel, hotly.
”What do you know of or for her?” replied the peer, quickly. ”I tell you, man, it's a disgrace to the family. Lady Essendine will be furious. If I had any authority over you I would forbid the marriage.
In any case,” he went on, ”do not look for any countenance or support from me.”
”I hope we shall be able to get on without your a.s.sistance, Lord Essendine. I thought it my duty to inform you of my marriage, and I think I might have been better received.”
”Stay, you idiot; don't go off in a huff. I don't like the match, I tell you frankly; but I don't want to quarrel. Is there anything I can do for you, except attending the wedding? I won't do that.”
Colonel Wilders could not bring himself to ask any favours of his unsympathetic kinsman. Nevertheless, it was through Lord Essendine's interest that he obtained a snug staff appointment in one of the large garrison towns; and he did not return indignantly the very handsome cheque paid in by his cousin to his account as a wedding present.
He was still serving at Chatsmouth, his young and beautiful wife the life of the gay garrison, when the war-clouds gathered dark upon the horizon, and, thanks again to the Essendine interest, he found himself transferred, still on the staff, to the expeditionary army under orders for the East.
CHAPTER V.
THE WAR FEVER.
They were stirring times, those early days of '54. After half a century of peace the shadow of a great contest loomed dark and near.
The whole British nation, sick and tired of Russian double-dealing, was eager to cut the knot of political difficulty with the sword.
Everyone was mad to fight; only a few optimists, statesmen mostly, still relying on the sedative processes of diplomacy, had any hopes of averting war. A race reputed peace-loving, but most pugnacious when roused, was stirred now to its very depths. British hearts beat high throughout the length and breadth of the land, proudly mindful of their former prowess and manfully hopeful of emulating former glorious deeds.
It was the same wherever Englishmen gathered under the old flag; in every corner of the world peopled by offshoots from the old stock, most of all in those strongholds and dependencies beyond sea captured in the old wars, and still held by our arms.
<script>