THE ANONYMOUS LETTER. 405 



gued I ridiculed I scorned : I appealed to his pride I men- 

 tioned his person. I bade him consult a cheval glass, and ask himself 

 if the reflection were that of a would-be bridegroom. I told him 

 how old he was what the Indian army would think in short, the 

 letter carried upon the face of it the perfect conviction of a thirty-two 

 pounder. Here and there I was literally ferocious. 



I dined alone that day, and was taking my wine in the compla- 

 cent consciousness of having done all in my power, when Colonel 

 Plinth knocked. Of course I knew his knock: it was always 

 violent ; but on this occasion rather less so than usual. I felt flur- 

 ried : as he ascended, my accurate ear detected a strange footstep on 

 the stair. Hastily pouring out and gulphing down a bumper, I con- 

 trived to rally before my friend entered. 



Commonly his countenance was turbid billowy rufous the red 

 sea in a storm ; now it was stony pale implacable : he was evi- 

 dently white hot with wrath. His eye usually lurid as that of 

 a Cyclops at the forge Avas cold clear icy ; his look froze me I 

 had seen him thus before in the breach at Seringapatam. 



His salute was alarmingly courteous : he begged leave to introduce 

 a friend Baron Cahooz, a noble Swede in the Prussian service. 

 Never before had I beheld such a martinet: where could Plinth 

 have picked him up ? 



The Baron, in very good English, expressed his concern at making 

 so valuable an acquaintance as that of Major Mocassin under such 

 infelicitous circumstances, j Colonel Plinth had been insulted : but 

 as I had so long been his most valued friend as we had fought and 

 bled on the same fields as those arms (his right and my left) which 

 had been so often linked together, were mouldering, side by side, in 

 the same grave as I was his brother-in-law, Colonel Plinth would 

 accept of the amplest possible apology : with any other man than 

 Major Mocassin, Colonel Plinth would have gone to extremities at once. 



I was petrified during this speech ; but at its conclusion some sort 

 of an inquiry staggered from my lips. 



Baron Cahooz did not understand. 



I declared myself to be in the same predicament : would he be so 

 good as to explain ? 



In reply, the Baron hinted that I must be conscious of having 

 written Colonel Plinth a letter. 



Fearing that Plinth's suspicions had been aroused, and that this 

 was a ruse to trap me into a confession remembering my precau- 

 tions and feeling sure that nothing could, by any possibility, be 

 brought home to me, unless I turned traitor to myself I denied the 

 imputation point blank ! Indeed, what else could I do ? 



Colonel Plinth uttered an exclamation of bitter contempt, and 

 hobbled towards the door. 



Baron Cahooz handed me his card : nothing further could be 

 done : he hoped the friend whom I might honour on the occasion 

 would see him as early as possible, in order to expedite the necessary 

 arrangements. 



I made a last effort. Advancing towards the door, where Plinth 



