Fiction > Serialisations > London, 1896-1897 - St. Ives > Volume 13

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THE PALL MALL MAGAZINE.
CHAPTER XXX V I.
I GO TO CLAIM FLORA.
Behold me now speeding northwards on the wings of love, ballasted by Mr.
Romaine. But, indeed, that worthy man climbed into the cafeche with something
less than his habitual gravity. He was obviously and pardonably flushed with
triumph. I observed that now and again he smiled to himself in the twilight, or
drew in his breath and emitted it with a martial pouf\ And when he began to
talk — which he did as soon as we were clear of the Saint Denis barrier— the points
of the Family Lawyer were untrussed. He leaned back in the caliche with the
air of a man who had subscribed to the peace of Europe and dined well on the
top of it. He criticised the fortifications with a wave of his toothpick, and
discoursed derisorily and at large on the Emperor's abdication, on the treachery
of the Duke of Ragusa, on the prospects of the Bourbons, and on the character
of M. Talleyrand, with anecdotes which made up in raciness for what they lacked
in authenticity.
We were bowling through La Chapelle when he pulled out his snuffbox and
proffered it.
" You are silent, Mr. Anne."
" I was waiting for the chorus," said I. " Rule Britannia ! Britannia rules the
waves : and Britons never, never, never Come, out with it ! "
"Well," he retorted, "and I hope the tune will come natural to you before
long."
" Oh, give me time, my dear sir ! I have seen the Cossacks enter Paris, and
the Parisians decorate their poodles with the Cross of the Legion of Honour.
I have seen them hoist a wretch on the Vendome column to smite the bronze
face of the man of Austerlitz. I have seen the salle of the Opera rise to applaud
a blatant fat fellow singing the praises of the Prussian— and to the tune of Vive
Henri Quatre ! I have seen, in my cousin Alain, of what the best blood in France
is capable. Also I have seen peasant boys — unripe crops of the later levies — mown
down by grapeshot, raise themselves on their elbows to cheer for France and the
little man in grey. In time, Mr. Romaine, no doubt my memory will confuse
these lads with their betters, and their mothers with the ladies of the salle de r Opera:
just as in time, no doubt, I shall find myself Justice of the Peace and Deputy-
Lieutenant of the shire of Buckingham. I am changing my country, as you remind
me: and, on my faith, she has no place for me. But for the sake of her I have
explored — and found the best of her — in my new country's prisons ; and, I repeat,
you must give me time."
"Tut, tut!" was his comment, as I searched for tinder-box and sulphur match
to relight my cigar. " We must get you into Parliament, Mr. Anne. You have
the gift."
As we approached Saint Denis the flow of his discourse sensibly slackened ;
and, a little beyond, he pulled his travelling-cap over his ears and settled down
to slumber. I sat wide awake beside him. The spring night had a touch of chill
in it, and the breath of our horses streaming back upon the lamps of the cafeche
kept a constant nimbus between me and the postilions. Above it, and over the
black spires of the poplar avenues, the regiments of stars moved in parade. My
gaze went up to the ensign of their noiseless evolutions, to the pole-star, and to
Cassiopeia swinging beneath it, low in the north, over my Flora's pillow— my
pole-star and journey's end.