Stories by English Authors: England | Page 2

Marlborough of our tale made one of the safe investments of that day;
he bought a "Times" and "Punch"--the latter full of steel-pen thrusts
and woodcuts. Valour and beauty deigned to laugh at some inflamed
humbug or other punctured by "Punch." Now laughing together thaws
our human ice; long before Swindon it was a talking-match; at
Swindon who so devoted as Captain Dolignan? He handed them out, he
souped them, he tough-chickened them, he brandied and cochinealed
one, and he brandied and burnt-sugared the other; on their return to the
carriage one lady passed into the inner compartment to inspect a certain
gentleman's seat on that side of the line.
Reader, had it been you or I, the beauty would have been the deserter,
the average one would have stayed with us till all was blue, ourselves
included; not more surely does our slice of bread and butter, when it
escapes from our hand, revolve it ever so often, alight face downward
on the carpet. But this was a bit of a fop, Adonis, dragoon, --so Venus
remained in tete-a-tete with him. You have seen a dog meet an
unknown female of his species; how handsome, how empresse, how
expressive he becomes: such was Dolignan after Swindon, and, to do
the dog justice, he got handsome and handsomer. And you have seen a
cat conscious of approaching cream: such was Miss Haythorn; she
became demurer and demurer. Presently our captain looked out of the
window and laughed; this elicited an inquiring look from Miss
Haythorn.
"We are only a mile from the Box Tunnel."
"Do you always laugh a mile from the Box Tunnel?" said the lady.
"Invariably."
"What for?"
"Why, hem! it is a gentleman's joke."
Captain Dolignan then recounted to Miss Haythorn the following:

"A lady and her husband sat together going through the Box Tunnel;
there was one gentleman opposite; it was pitch-dark. After the tunnel
the lady said, 'George, how absurd of you to salute me going through
the tunnel!' 'I did no such thing.' 'You didn't?' 'No; why?' 'Because
somehow I thought you did!'"
Here Captain Dolignan laughed and endeavoured to lead his companion
to laugh, but it was not to be done. The train entered the tunnel.
Miss Haythorn. Ah!
Dolignan. What is the matter?
Miss Haythorn. I am frightened.
Dolignan (moving to her side). Pray do not be alarmed; I am near you.
Miss Haythorn. You are near me--very near me indeed, Captain
Dolignan.
Dolignan. You know my name?
Miss Haythorn. I heard you mention it. I wish we were out of this dark
place.
Dolignan. I could be content to spend hours here reassuring you, my
dear lady.
Miss Haythorn. Nonsense!
Dolignan. Pweep! (Grave reader, do not put our lips to the next pretty
creature you meet, or will understand what this means.)
Miss Haythorn. Ee! Ee!
Friend. What is the matter?
Miss Haythorn. Open the door! Open the door!

There was a sound of hurried whispers; the door was shut and the blind
pulled down with hostile sharpness.
If any critic falls on me for putting inarticulate sounds in a dialogue as
above, I answer, with all the insolence I can command at present, "Hit
boys as big as yourself"--bigger, perhaps, such as Sophocles, Euripides,
and Aristophanes; they began it, and I learned it of them sore against
my will.
Miss Haythorn's scream lost most of its effect because the engine
whistled forty thousand murders at the same moment, and fictitious
grief makes itself heard when real cannot.
Between the tunnel and Bath our young friend had time to ask himself
whether his conduct had been marked by that delicate reserve which is
supposed to distinguish the perfect gentleman.
With a long face, real or feigned, he held open the door; his late friends
attempted to escape on the other side; impossible! they must pass him.
She whom he had insulted (Latin for kissed) deposited somewhere at
his feet a look of gentle, blushing reproach; the other, whom he had not
insulted, darted red-hot daggers at him from her eyes; and so they
parted.
It was perhaps fortunate for Dolignan that he had the grace to be a
friend to Major Hoskyns of his regiment, a veteran laughed at by the
youngsters, for the major was too apt to look coldly upon billiard-balls
and cigars; he had seen cannon-balls and linstocks. He had also, to tell
the truth, swallowed a good bit of the mess-room poker, which made it
as impossible for Major Hoskyns to descend to an ungentlemanlike
word or action as to brush his own trousers below the knee.
Captain Dolignan told this gentleman his story in gleeful accents; but
Major Hoskyns heard him coldly, and as coldly answered that he had
known a man to lose his life for the