платнею – ставайте в чергу як кредитор після банкрутства мого чоловіка.
Гаррі ще й не розчув до ладу цих образливих слів, як уже напустився на нього з лайкою генерал.
– А тим часом, – горлав він, – ходімо зі мною до найближчого інспектора поліції. Ви, сер, можете дурити такого простосердого солдата, як я, але око закону зразу викриє вашу безсоромну брехню. Якщо вже через ваші потаємні інтриги з моєю дружиною мені судилося доживати віку в злиднях, я принаймні старатимусь, щоб ваші облуда й крутійство не минули кари. Запевняю, сер, Бог відмовить мені в останній ласці, якщо ви до самого скону не будете гибіти на каторзі.
Проказавши це, генерал схопив Гаррі й квапливо потяг його сходами, а потім вулицею до найближчого поліційного відділка.
Тут (каже мій арабський автор) завершується ця прикра пригода з коробкою. Зате для бідолашного секретаря вся ця історія стала початком нового і справді гідного чоловіка життя. Поліція швидко переконалася в його невинності, а після того як він розповів геть усе, що могло придатися для дальшого слідства, один з інспекторів слідчого відділу навіть похвалив його за чесність і простоту поводження. Декілька осіб зацікавилось долею юнака, якому так непоталанило, а невдовзі у спадок по тітці з Вустерширу[2], що померла старою панною, він отримав трохи грошей. З цим багатством він одружився з Пруденс і, надзвичайно вдоволений і маючи найкращі сподівання, відплив у Бендіго[3] або ж, як казали інші, в Тринкомалі[4].
Story of the Bandbox
Up to the age of sixteen, at a private school and afterwards at one of those great institutions for which England is justly famous, Mr. Harry Hartley had received the ordinary education of a gentleman. At that period, he manifested a remarkable distaste for study; and his only surviving parent being both weak and ignorant, he was permitted thenceforward to spend his time in the attainment of petty and purely elegant accomplishments. Two years later, he was left an orphan and almost a beggar. For all active and industrious pursuits, Harry was unfitted alike by nature and training. He could sing romantic ditties, and accompany himself with discretion on the piano; he was a graceful although a timid cavalier; he had a pronounced taste for chess; and nature had sent him into the world with one of the most engaging exteriors that can well be fancied. Blond and pink, with dove’s eyes and a gentle smile, he had an air of agreeable tenderness and melancholy, and the most submissive and caressing manners. But when all is said, he was not the man to lead armaments of war, or direct the councils of a State.
A fortunate chance and some influence obtained for Harry, at the time of his bereavement, the position of private secretary to Major-General Sir Thomas Vandeleur, C. B. Sir Thomas was a man of sixty, loud-spoken, boisterous, and domineering. For some reason, some service the nature of which had been often whispered and repeatedly denied, the Rajah of Kashgar had presented this officer with the sixth known diamond of the world. The gift transformed General Vandeleur from a poor into a wealthy man, from an obscure and unpopular soldier into one of the lions of London society; the possessor of the Rajah’s Diamond was welcome in the most exclusive circles; and he had found a lady, young, beautiful, and well-born, who was willing to call the diamond hers even at the price of marriage with Sir Thomas Vandeleur. It was commonly said at the time that, as like draws to like, one jewel had attracted another; certainly Lady Vandeleur was not only a gem of the finest water in her own person, but she showed herself to the world in a very costly setting; and she was considered by many respectable authorities, as one among the three or four best dressed women in England.
Harry’s duty as secretary was not particularly onerous; but he had a dislike for all prolonged work; it gave him pain to ink his fingers; and the charms of Lady Vandeleur and her toilettes drew him often from the library to the boudoir. He had the prettiest ways among women, could talk fashions with enjoyment, and was never more happy than when criticising a shade of ribbon, or running on an errand to the milliner’s. In short, Sir Thomas’s correspondence fell into pitiful arrears, and my Lady had another lady’s maid.
At last the General, who was one of the least patient of military commanders, arose from his place in a violent access of passion, and indicated to his secretary that he had no further need for his services, with one of those explanatory gestures which are most rarely employed between gentlemen. The door being unfortunately open, Mr. Hartley fell downstairs head foremost.
He arose somewhat hurt and very deeply aggrieved. The life in the General’s house precisely suited him; he moved, on a more or less doubtful footing, in very genteel company, he did little, he ate of the best, and he had a lukewarm satisfaction in the presence of Lady Vandeleur, which, in his own heart, he dubbed by a more emphatic name.
Immediately after he had been outraged by the military foot, he hurried to the boudoir and recounted his sorrows.
“You know very well, my dear Harry,” replied Lady Vandeleur, for she called him by name like a child or a domestic servant, “that you never by any chance do what the General tells you. No more do I, you may say. But that is different. А woman can earn her pardon for a good year of disobedience by a single adroit submission; and, besides, no one is married to his private secretary. I shall be sorry to lose you; but since you cannot stay longer in a house where you have been insulted, I shall wish you goodbye, and I promise you to make the General smart for his behaviour.”
Harry’s countenance fell; tears came into his eyes, and he gazed on Lady Vandeleur with a tender reproach.
“My