The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer | Page 9

they stood, I had to pass along part
of the line. In doing so, how shall I convey my amazement at the faces
that met me--a general titter ran along the entire rank, which not even
their fears for consequences seemed able to repress--for an effort, on
the part of many, to stifle the laugh, only ended in a still louder burst of
merriment. I looked to the far side of the yard for an explanation, but

there was nothing there to account for it. I now crossed over to where
the officers were standing, determining in my own mind to investigate
the occurrence thoroughly, when free from the presence of the colonel,
to whom any representation of ill conduct always brought a punishment
far exceeding the merits of the case.
Scarcely had I formed this resolve, when I reached the group of officers;
but the moment I came near, one general roar of laughter saluted
me,--the like of which I never before heard--I looked down at my
costume, expecting to discover that, in my hurry to dress, I had put on
some of the garments of Othello--No: all was perfectly correct. I waited
for a moment, till the first burst of their merriment over, I should obtain
a clue to the jest. But their mirth appeared to increase. Indeed poor
G----, the senior major, one of the gravest men in Europe, laughed till
the tears ran down his cheeks; and such was the effect upon me, that I
was induced to laugh too--as men will sometimes, from the infectious
nature of that strange emotion; but, no sooner did I do this, than their
fun knew no bounds, and some almost screamed aloud, in the excess of
their merriment; just at this instant the Colonel, who had been
examining some of the men, approached our group, advancing with an
air of evident displeasure, as the shouts of loud laughter continued. As
he came up, I turned hastily round, and touching my cap, wished him
good morning. Never shall I forget the look he gave me. If a glance
could have annihilated any man, his would have finished me. For a
moment his face became purple with rage, his eye was almost hid
beneath his bent brow, and he absolutely shook with passion.
"Go, Sir," said he at length, as soon as he was able to find utterance for
his words; "Go, sir, to your quarters; and before you leave them, a
court-martial shall decide, if such continued insult to your commanding
officer, warrants your name being in the Army List."
"What the devil can all this mean?" I said, in a half-whisper, turning to
the others. But there they stood, their handkerchiefs to their mouths,
and evidently choking with suppressed laughter.
"May I beg, Colonel C____," said I----

"To your quarters, sir," roared the little man, in the voice of a lion. And
with a haughty wave of his hand, prevented all further attempt on my
part to seek explanation.
"They're all mad, every man of them," I muttered, as I betook byself
slowly back to my rooms, amid the same evidences of mirth my first
appearance had excited--which even the Colonel's presence, feared as
he was, could not entirely subdue.
With the air of a martyr I trod heavily up the stairs, and entered my
quarters, meditating within myself, awful schemes for vengeance, on
the now open tyranny of my Colonel; upon whom, I too, in my honest
rectitude of heart, vowed to have "a court-martial." I threw myself
upon a chair, and endeavoured to recollect what circumstance of the
past evening could have possibly suggested all the mirth in which both
officers and men seemed to participate equally; but nothing could I
remember, capable of solving the mystery,--surely the cruel wrongs of
the manly Othello were no laughter-moving subject.
I rang the bell hastily for my servant. The door opened.
"Stubbes," said I, "are you aware"----
I had only got so far in my question, when my servant, one of the most
discreet of men, put on a broad grin, and turned away towards the door
to hide his face.
"What the devil does this mean?" said I, stamping with passion; "he is
as bad as the rest. Stubbes," and this I spoke with the most grave and
severe tone, "what is the meaning of the insolence?"
"Oh, sir," said the man; "Oh, sir, surely you did not appear on parade
with that face?" and then he burst into a fit of the most uncontrollable
laughter.
Like lightning a horrid doubt shot across my mind. I sprung over to the
dressing-glass, which had been replaced, and oh: horror of horrors!
There I stood as black as the king of Ashantee. The cursed dye which I

had put on for Othello, I