'
'That is past praying for,' said the Colonel; and immediately the
brief fire died out of him, and, returning to the hearth, he
relapsed into his former abstraction.
But I was not so easy to compose. The knowledge of the poor
gentleman's trouble, and the sight of his face, had filled me with
the bitterness of remorse; and I insisted upon shaking hands with
the Major (which he did with a very ill grace), and abounded in
palinodes and apologies.
'After all,' said I, 'who am I to talk? I am in the luck to be a
private soldier; I have no parole to give or to keep; once I am
over the rampart, I am as free as air. I beg you to believe that I
regret from my soul the use of these ungenerous expressions. Allow
me . . . Is there no way in this damned house to attract attention?
Where is this fellow, Fenn?'
I ran to one of the windows and threw it open. Fenn, who was at
the moment passing below in the court, cast up his arms like one in
despair, called to me to keep back, plunged into the house, and
appeared next moment in the doorway of the chamber.
'Oh, sir!' says he, 'keep away from those there windows. A body
might see you from the back lane.'
'It is registered,' said I. 'Henceforward I will be a mouse for
precaution and a ghost for invisibility. But in the meantime, for
God's sake, fetch us a bottle of brandy! Your room is as damp as
the bottom of a well, and these gentlemen are perishing of cold.
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