The Amateur Gentleman
Page 173"You mean the man in the bright green coat?"
"Yes. Call him 'Pea-green Haynes'--one of your second-rate, ultra
dandies. Twig his vasty whiskers, will you! Takes his fellow hours
to curl 'em. And then his cravat, b'gad!"
"How does he turn his head?" inquired Barnabas.
"Never does,--can't! I lost a devilish lot to him at hazard a few
years ago--crippled me, y' know. But talking of my uncle--devilish
fond of him--always was."
"But mark you, Beverley, a man has no right--no business to go
on living after he's seventy, at least, it shows deuced bad
taste, I think--so thoughtless, y'know. Hallo! why there's Ball
Hughes--driving the chocolate-colored coach, and got up like a
regular jarvey. Devilish rich, y'know--call him 'The Golden
Ball'--deuce of a fellow! Pitch and toss, or whist at five pound
points, damme! Won small fortune from Petersham at battledore and
shuttlecock,--played all night too."
"And have you lost to him also?"
"Of course?"
"Oh, well--now and then, y'know, though I'm generally unlucky. Must
have been under--Aldeboran, is it?--anyhow, some cursed star or other.
Been dogged by ill-luck from my cradle, b'gad! On the turf, in the
clubs and bells, even in the Peninsular!"
"So you fought in the Peninsular?"
"Oh, yes."
"And did you gamble there too?"
"Naturally--whenever I could."
"And did you lose?"
"Generally. Everything's been against me, y'know--even my size."
"How so?"
"Well, there was a fellow in the Eighty-eighth, name of Crichton.
I'd lost to him pretty heavily while we were before Ciudad Rodrigo.
The night before the storming--we both happened to have volunteered,
y'know--'Crichton,' says I, 'I'll go you double or quits I'm into
the town to-morrow before you are.' 'Done!' says he. Well, we
advanced to the attack about dawn, about four hundred of us. The
thrown up a breast-work and fortified it during the night. But up we
went at the 'double,' Crichton and I in front, you may be sure. As
soon as the Frenchies opened fire, I began to run,--so did Crichton,
but being longer in the leg, I was at the breach first, and began to
scramble over the debris. Crichton was a little fellow, y' know, but
game all through, and active as a cat, and b'gad, presently above
the roar and din, I could hear him panting close behind me. Up we
went, nearer and nearer, with our fellows about a hundred yards in
our rear, clambering after us and cheering as they came. I was close
upon the confounded breastwork when I took a musket-ball through my
leg, and over I went like a shot rabbit, b'gad! Just then Crichton
panted up. 'Hurt?' says he. 'Only my leg,' says I, 'go on, and good
luck to you.' 'Devilish rough on you, Sling!' says he, and on he went.
But he'd only gone about a couple of yards when he threw up his arms
and pitched over on his face. 'Poor Crichton's done for!' says I to
myself, and made shift to crawl over to him. But b'gad! he saw me
coming, and began to crawl too. So there we were, on our hands and
leg was deuced--uncomfortable, y' know, but I put on a spurt, and
managed to draw level with him. 'Hallo, Sling!' says he, 'here's
where you win, for I'm done!' and over he goes again. 'So am I, for
that matter,' says I--which was only the truth, Beverley. So b'gad,
there we lay, side by side, till up came our fellows, yelling like
fiends, past us and over us, and charged the breastwork with the
bayonet,--and carried it too! Presently, up came two stragglers,--a
corporal of the Eighty-eighth and a sergeant of 'Ours.' 'Hi,
Corporal,' yells Crichton, 'ten pounds if you can get me over the
breastwork--quick's the word!' 'Sergeant,' says I, 'twenty pounds if
you get me over first.' Well, down went the Corporal's musket and the
Sergeant's pike, and on to their backs we scrambled--a deuced
painful business for both of us, I give you my word, Beverley. So we
began our race again--mounted this time. But it was devilish bad
going, and though the Sergeant did his best, I came in a very bad
second. You see, I'm no light weight, and Crichton was."