What a subject he could make
of her father! "The Deserter" offered a new complication. Fellingham
rapidly sketched it in fancy--Van Diemen, as a Member of the Parliament
of Great Britain, led away from the House of Commons to be branded on the
bank! What a magnificent fall! We have so few intensely dramatic
positions in English real life that the meditative author grew enamoured
of this one, and laughed out a royal "Ha!" like a monarch reviewing his
well-appointed soldiery.
"There you are," said Van Diemen's voice; "I smelt your pipe. You're a
rum fellow, to belying out on the beach on a cold night. Lord! I don't
like you the worse for it. Twas for the romance of the moon in my young
days."
"Where is Annette?" said Fellingham, jumping to his feet.
"My daughter? She 's taking leave of her intended."
"What's that?" Fellingham gasped. "Good heavens, Mr. Smith, what do you
mean?"
"Pick up your pipe, my lad. Girls choose as they please, I suppose"
"Her intended, did you say, sir? What can that mean?"
"My dear good young fellow, don't make a fuss.
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