Redgauntlet: A Tale of the Eighteenth Century by Walter Scott (classic novels .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Walter Scott
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Meantime the floor remained empty, and as the mirth of the good meeting was somewhat checked, I ventured, as a DERNIER RESSORT, to propose a minuet. She thanked me, and told me haughtily enough, ‘she was here to encourage the harmless pleasures of these good folks, but was not disposed to make an exhibition of her own indifferent dancing for their amusement.’
She paused a moment, as if she expected me to suggest something; and as I remained silent and rebuked, she bowed her head more graciously, and said, ‘Not to affront you, however, a country-dance, if you please.’
What an ass was I, Alan, not to have anticipated her wishes! Should I not have observed that the ill-favoured couple, Mabel and Cristal, had placed themselves on each side of her seat, like the supporters of the royal arms? the man, thick, short, shaggy, and hirsute, as the lion; the female, skin-dried, tight-laced, long, lean, and hungry-faced, like the unicorn. I ought to have recollected, that under the close inspection of two such watchful salvages, our communication, while in repose, could not have been easy; that the period of dancing a minuet was not the very choicest time for conversation; but that the noise, the exercise, and the mazy confusion of a country-dance, where the inexperienced performers were every now and then running against each other, and compelling the other couples to stand still for a minute at a time, besides the more regular repose afforded by the intervals of the dance itself, gave the best possible openings for a word or two spoken in season, and without being liable to observation.
We had but just led down, when an opportunity of the kind occurred, and my partner said, with great gentleness and modesty, ‘It is not perhaps very proper in me to acknowledge an acquaintance that is not claimed; but I believe I speak to Mr. Darsie Latimer?’
‘Darsie Latimer was indeed the person that had now the honour and happiness’—
I would have gone on in the false gallop of compliment, but she cut me short. ‘And why,’ she said, ‘is Mr. Latimer here, and in disguise, or at least assuming an office unworthy of a man of education?—I beg pardon,’ she continued,—‘I would not give you pain, but surely making, an associate of a person of that description’—
She looked towards my friend Willie, and was silent. I felt heartily ashamed of myself, and hastened to say it was an idle frolic, which want of occupation had suggested, and which I could not regret, since it had procured me the pleasure I at present enjoyed.
Without seeming to notice my compliment, she took the next opportunity to say, ‘Will Mr. Latimer permit a stranger who wishes him well to ask, whether it is right that, at his active age, he should be in so far void of occupation, as to be ready to adopt low society for the sake of idle amusement?’
‘You are severe, madam,’ I answered; ‘but I cannot think myself degraded by mixing with any society where I meet’—
Here I stopped short, conscious that I was giving my answer an unhandsome turn. The ARGUMENTUM AD HOMINEM, the last to which a polite man has recourse, may, however, be justified by circumstances, but seldom or never the ARGUMENTUM AD FOEMINAM.
She filled up the blank herself which I had left. ‘Where you meet ME, I suppose you would say? But the case is different. I am, from my unhappy fate, obliged to move by the will of others, and to be in places which I would by my own will gladly avoid. Besides, I am, except for these few minutes, no participator of the revels—a spectator only, and attended by my servants. Your situation is different—you are here by choice, the partaker and minister of the pleasures of a class below you in education, birth, and fortunes. If I speak harshly, Mr. Latimer,’ she added, with much sweetness of manner, ‘I mean kindly.’
I was confounded by her speech, ‘severe in youthful wisdom’; all of naive or lively, suitable to such a dialogue, vanished from my recollection, and I answered with gravity like her own, ‘I am, indeed, better educated than these poor people; but you, madam, whose kind admonition I am grateful for, must know more of my condition than I do myself—I dare not say I am their superior in birth, since I know nothing of my own, or in fortunes, over which hangs an impenetrable cloud.’
‘And why should your ignorance on these points drive you into low society and idle habits?’ answered my female monitor. ‘Is it manly to wait till fortune cast her beams upon you, when by exertion of your own energy you might distinguish yourself? Do not the pursuits of learning lie open to you—of manly ambition—of war? But no—not of war, that has already cost you too dear.’
‘I will be what you wish me to be,’ I replied with eagerness—‘You have but to choose my path, and you shall see if I do not pursue it with energy, were it only because you command me.’
‘Not because I command you,’ said the maiden, ‘but because reason, common sense, manhood, and, in one word, regard for your own safety, give the same counsel.’
‘At least permit me to reply, that reason and sense never assumed a fairer form—of persuasion,’ I hastily added; for she turned from me—nor did she give me another opportunity of continuing what I had to say till the next pause of the dance, when, determined to bring our dialogue to a point, I said, ‘You mentioned manhood also, and in the same breath, personal danger. My ideas of manhood suggest that it is cowardice to retreat before dangers of a doubtful character. You, who appear to know so much of my fortunes that I might call you my guardian angel, tell me what these dangers are, that I may judge whether manhood calls on me to face or to fly them.’
She was evidently perplexed by this appeal.
‘You make me pay dearly for acting as your humane adviser,’ she replied at last: ‘I acknowledge an interest in your fate, and yet I dare not tell you whence it arises; neither am I at liberty to say why, or from whom, you are in danger; but it is not less true that danger is near and imminent. Ask me no more, but, for your own sake, begone from this country. Elsewhere you are safe—here you do but invite your fate.’
‘But am I doomed to bid thus farewell to almost the only human being who has showed an interest in my welfare? Do not say so—say that we shall meet again, and the hope shall be the leading star to regulate my course!’
‘It is more than probable,’ she said—‘much more than probable, that we may never meet again.
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