PAGE 15
The Virginians
by
Somewhat later, when General Braddock and the other guests had retired to their apartments, the boys went to their own room, and there poured out to one another their opinions respecting the great event of the day. They would not bear such a marriage–No. Was the representative of the Marquis of Esmond to marry the younger son of a colonial family, who had been bred up as a land surveyor–Castlewood and the boys at nineteen years of age handed over to the tender mercies of a step-father of three and twenty? Oh, it was monstrous! Harry was for going straightway to his mother, protesting against the odious match, and announcing that they would leave her forever if the marriage took place.
George had another plan for preventing it, which he explained to his admiring brother. “Our mother,” he said, “can’t marry a man with whom one or both of us has been out on the field, and who has wounded us or killed us, or whom we have wounded or killed. We must have him out, Harry.”
Harry saw the profound truth conveyed in George’s statement, and admired his brother’s immense sagacity. “No, George,” says he, “you are right. Mother can’t marry our murderer; she won’t be as bad as that. And if we pink him, he is done for. Shall I send my boy with a challenge to Colonel George now?”
“We can’t insult a gentleman in our own house,” said George with great majesty; “the laws of honour forbid such inhospitable treatment. But, sir, we can ride out with him, and, as soon as the park gates are closed, we can tell him our mind.”
“That we can, by George!” cries Harry, grasping his brother’s hand, “and that we will, too. I say, Georgie–” Here the lad’s face became very red, and his brother asked him what he would say.
“This is my turn, brother,” Harry pleaded. “If you go to the campaign, I ought to have the other affair. Indeed, indeed, I ought.” And he prayed for this bit of promotion.
“Again the head of the house must take the lead, my dear,” George said with a superb air. “If I fall, my Harry will avenge me. But I must fight George Washington, Hal; and ’tis best I should; for, indeed, I hate him the worst. Was it not he who counselled my mother to order that wretch, Ward, to lay hands on me?”
“Colonel Washington is my enemy especially. He has advised one wrong against me, and he meditates a greater. I tell you, brother, we must punish him.”
The grandsire’s old Bordeaux had set George’s ordinarily pale countenance into a flame. Harry, his brother’s fondest worshipper, could not but admire George’s haughty bearing and rapid declamation, and prepared himself, with his usual docility, to follow his chief. So the boys went to their beds, the elder conveying special injunctions to his junior to be civil to all the guests so long as they remained under the maternal roof on the morrow.
The widow, occupied as she had been with the cares of a great dinner, followed by a great breakfast on the morning ensuing, had scarce leisure to remark the behaviour of her sons very closely, but at least saw that George was scrupulously polite to her favourite, Colonel Washington, as to all the other guests of the house.
Before Mr. Braddock took his leave he had a private audience with Madame Esmond, in which his Excellency formally arranged to take her son into his family; after which the jolly General good-naturedly shook hands with George, and bade George welcome and to be in attendance at Frederick three days hence; shortly after which time the expedition would set forth.
And now the great coach was again called into requisition, the General’s escort pranced round it, the other guests and their servants went to horse.
As the boys went up the steps, there was the Colonel once more taking leave of their mother. No doubt she had been once more recommending George to his namesake’s care; for Colonel Washington said: “With my life. You may depend on me,” as the lads returned to their mother and the few guests still remained in the porch. The Colonel was booted and ready to depart. “Farewell, my dear Harry,” he said. “With you, George, ’tis no adieu. We shall meet in three days at the camp.”