Mayne Reid

“ Awake, she could think only of one she had reason to fear—the face of an angry father.
The Creole confidante, while dressing her, observed her trepidation, and endeavoured to inspire her with courage. In vain.
The young girl trembled as she descended the stair in obedience to the summons for breakfast.
There was no need yet. She was safe in the company of her father’s guests, assembled around the table. The only one missing was Maynard.
But no one made remark; and the gap had been more than filled up by some fresh arrivals—among them a distinguished foreign nobleman. ”

“ Maynard was amused at the Count’s perplexity. Stranger as he was, he had no fears for himself. In the great world of London he knew of more than one who would be willing to act as his groomsman—especially with a baronet’s daughter for the bride!
“Stay!” cried Roseveldt, after reflecting. “I have it! There’s Count Ladislaus Teleky. He’ll do for me. And there’s—there’s his cousin, Count Francis! Why shouldn’t he stand up for you? I know you are friends. ”

“ The carriage, slowly working its way through the thick crowd, was almost lifted from its wheels. In their enthusiastic excitement those who surrounded it looked as if they would have raised it on their shoulders and carried it, horses included, up the staging of the steamer.
They did this much for Maynard. Strong-bearded men threw their arms around him, kissing him as if he had been a beautiful girl, while beautiful girls clasped him by the hand, or with their kerchiefs waved him an affectionate farewell. ”

“ Nor was the interview a stormy one, as they stood face to face under the shadow of the deodara.
Sir George’s daughter had retired from the spot, her young heart throbbing with pain; while Maynard, deeply humiliated, made no attempt to justify himself.
Had there been light under the tree, Sir George would have seen before him the face of a man that expressed the very type of submission.
For some seconds, there was a profound and painful silence.
It was broken by the baronet:
“After this, sir, I presume it is not necessary for me to point out the course you should pursue? There is only one.” ”

“ By the mode in which he made entry, something whispered Maynard, that the time had come when both were to be released from their irksome inaction. The Count was flurried, excited, tugging at his moustache, as if he intended tearing it away from his lip!
“What is it, my dear Roseveldt?”
“Don’t you smell gunpowder?”
“No.”
“There’s some being burnt by this time.”
“Where?”
“In Milan. The revolution’s broke out there. But I’ve no time to talk to you. Kossuth has sent me for you post-haste. He wants you to come at once. Are you ready?”
“You’re always in such haste, my dear Count. ”

“ Would you believe it, Roseveldt; we suspect him of treason?”
“If you do,” responded the Count, “you’re great fools to wait for his bringing it to maturity. You should advance without his orders. For my part, and I can speak, too, for my comrade here, I shan’t stay here, while there’s fighting farther on. Our cause is the same as yours; and we’ve come several thousand miles to draw swords in it. We were too late for the Baden affair; and by staying here with you we may again get disappointed. Come, Maynard! We have no business at Vilagos. Let us go on to Temesvar!” ”

“ Some half-dozen names were appended, at which Maynard simply glanced. He knew the men, and had heard of the movement.
“I accept,” he said, after a few seconds spent in reflection. “You can carry that answer back to the committee.”
“Carry back an answer! My dear Maynard, I come to carry you back.”
“Must I go directly?”
“This very day. The rising in Baden has begun, and you know revolutions won’t wait for any one. Every hour is important. You are expected back by the next boat. I hope there’s nothing to prevent it? What! There is something?” ”

“ Maynard was not attending to the remark. His thoughts, as well as eyes, were still occupied with the gentleman who had got out of the cab; and who, before disappearing behind the lilacs and laurels, was recognised by him as his old antagonist, Swinton! Captain Maynard did that he had before refused, and suddenly. He concealed himself behind the window curtain! Kossuth observing it, inquired why?
“I chance to know the man,” was Maynard’s answer. “Pardon me, Governor, for having doubted your word! I can believe now what you’ve told me. Spies! Oh! if the English people knew this! ”

“ Early Life. Emigration to America. Edgar Allan Poe. To most of the world, Captain Mayne Reid is known only as a writer of thrilling romances and works on natural history. It will appear in these pages that he was also distinguished as a man of action and a soldier, and the record of his many gallant deeds should still further endear him to the hearts of his readers.
He was born in the north of Ireland, in April, 1818, at Ballyroney, county Down, the eldest son of the Reverend Thomas Mayne Reid, Presbyterian minister, a man of great learning and ability. ”

“ Though I’ve reason to be ashamed of my conduct, I must be candid and tell you, that I scarce deem it a misfortune having overheard you. It is so pleasant to listen to one’s own praises.”
“But who was praising you?”
The question was asked with an air of naïveté that might have been mistaken for coquetry.
Perhaps she had forgotten what she had said.
“Not your cousin,” replied Maynard, with a smile—“he who thinks me old enough to be your grandfather.”
“Ha! ha!” laughed Miss Vernon. “You mustn’t mind what Frank says. He’s always offending somebody.” ”

“ Captain Mayne Reid now finally sheathed his sword, once more took up the pen, and began those marvellous tales of adventure which have made his name famous.
Chapter Nine. His First Romances. Captain Mayne Reid now sought to find a publisher for his first romance, “The Rifle Rangers,” which he had written at Donn Piatt’s house in Ohio, and to which he had now put the finishing touches in London.
To find a publisher for a book by an unknown author was no easy task. ”

“ Mayne Reid left Philadelphia in the spring of 1846, spending the summer at Newport, Rhode Island, as correspondent to the New York Herald, under the name of “Ecolier.” In September of the same year he was in New York, and had secured a post on Wilkes’ Spirit of the Times, but in November he abandoned the pen for the sword. ”

“ It is only the successful who can speak encouragement.
Roseveldt did not stay long, nor was he communicative.
Maynard did not know the object of his late-sprung passion—not even her name! He only thought it must be some rare damsel who could have caused such a transformation in his friend—a man so indifferent to the fair sex as to have often declared his determination of dying a bachelor!
The Count took his leave in a great hurry; but not before giving a hint as to the why. Maynard noticed that he was dressed with unusual care—his moustache pomaded, his hair perfumed! ”

“ During those twelve days Maynard had many a thought about that child’s face seen in the glass—many a surmise as to whether, and what, she might be thinking of him.
But Cape Clear came in sight, and he was no nearer to a knowledge of her inclinings than when he first saw her, on parting from Sandy Hook! Nor was there any change in his. As he stood upon the steamer’s deck, coasting along the southern shore of his native land, with the Austrian by his side, he made the same remark he had done within sight of Staten Island.
“I have a presentiment that child will yet be my wife!” ”

“ Instead of spoiling my game, it’s likely to prove the trump card. What a lucky fluke it is! By the way, I wonder where Maynard can be gone, or what’s carried him off in such a devil of a hurry? Ha! I think I know now. It must be something about this that’s in the New York papers. These German revolutionists, chased out of Europe in ’48, who are getting up an expedition to go back. Now I remember, there was a count’s name mixed up with the affair. Yes—it was Roseveldt! This must be the man. And Maynard? Going along with them, no doubt. He was a rabid Radical in England. ”

“ Flinging the hood back upon her shoulders, she turned her face upward to the sky, and seemed as if seeking solace from, the cold deluge that poured down from the clouds—the big drops dancing upon her golden tresses, and leaving them as if with reluctance to saturate the silken foldings that draped her majestic form.
“Oh! that I could weep like you, ye skies!” she exclaimed, “and, like you, cast the cloud that is over me! Alas! ’tis too dense to be dissolved in tears. To-morrow ye will be bright again, and gay as ever! To-morrow! Ah! ’twill be the same to me—to-morrow and for ever!” ”

“ One of the humbler members of the congregation, a labouring man, had also noticed the non use of a prayer book, and accosted the Captain one day, thus: “Ah, sir, I see you don’t require no book; you be a scholard.” The poor man evidently thinking that he knew it all by heart.
Between the years 1862 and 1865 Captain Mayne Reid built himself a house in the style of a Mexican hacienda, with flat roof. ”

“ As Maynard said this a strange expression came over his countenance, as if he was struggling against the truth.
“No—no!” he continued, with a forced smile. “Not a woman. It’s only a man; indeed only a thing in the shape of one.” ”

“ Sir George going back to his guests in the drawing-room, Maynard making his way to the apartment that contained his impedimenta.
The packing of his portmanteau did not occupy him half the ten minutes’ time. There was no need to change his dancing-dress. His surtout would sufficiently conceal it.
The bell brought a male domestic; who, shouldering the “trap,” carried it downstairs—though not without wondering why the gent should be taking his departure, at that absurd hour, just as the enjoyment in the drawing-room had reached its height, and a splendid supper was being spread upon the tables! ”

“ Your sneer at the ‘authority of Mayne Reid,’ is equally characteristic. It is true I am but a plain gentleman, who make my living, like yourself, by literature. But I did not calculate upon the statement of a plain gentleman having any weight with you. In my letter I offered you full proof of my assertions. You do not seem inclined to call them forth.
“And now, sir, one word more. If you flatter yourself that by means of bold swagger and personal invective you can cover your misdeeds, you are sadly mistaken. ”

“ Only the wallflowers, yet comparatively fresh, were stirring upon the floor. To them it was the time of true enjoyment; for it is they who “dance all night till broad daylight.”
Maynard had no motive for remaining after Miss Girdwood was gone. It was, in truth, she who had retained him. But with a spirit now stirred by conflicting emotions, there would be little chance of sleep; and he resolved, before retiring to his couch, to make one more sacrifice at the shrine of Bacchus.
With this intent, he again descended the stairway leading to the cellar saloon. ”

“ It was fortunate for Maynard that this stormy life had succeeded the tranquillity of the Newport Hotel. It enabled him to think less about Julia Girdwood. Still was she in his mind, as the steamer left Staten Island in her wake, and was clearing her way through the Narrows.
But before Sandy Hook was out of sight, the proud girl had gone away from his thoughts, and with the suddenness of thought itself!
This quick forgetfulness calls for explanation.
The last look at a land, where a sweetheart has been left behind, will not restore the sighing heart to its tranquillity. ”

“ Mayne Reid by his widow, has aroused the interest of a new generation in the works of a gallant gentleman, whose novels, translated into many languages, gave universal pleasure; and the memory of whose brilliant military exploits, in the Mexican war of 1846-8, will ever be preserved by those who admire brave deeds. Three countries take especial pride in Mayne Reid. Ireland, the land of his birth; America, the country for which he fought, and in which the scenes of his chief novels were laid; and England, his home for thirty-four years, wherein his books were written. ”

“ Of this book the Nonconformist says:
“As a writer of books for boys, commend us above all men living to Captain Mayne Reid.
“We venture to add, that we should like to see men of any age who could deny that its perusal gave them both pleasure and instruction.”
Chapter Eleven. “The Captain and his Child Wife.” Captain Mayne Reid had now met his fate; not in the dark-eyed Mexican señorita, but a fair little English girl, a child scarce thirteen years of age. Her name was Elizabeth Hyde, the only daughter of George William Hyde, a lineal descendant of the first Earl of Clarendon. ”

“ They can have him at their own price. Caveat emptor. For this little contretemps I needn’t blame him, though I’d give twenty dollars to have an excuse for tweaking his nose!”
Captain Maynard was anything but a quarrelsome man. He only thought in this strain, smarting under his humiliation.
“It must have been the doing of the mother, who for a son-in-law prefers Mr Swinton to me. Ha! ha! ha! If she only knew him as I do?” ”

“ The sunbeams glittered upon tresses of a kindred colour—among which they seemed delighted to linger. They flashed into eyes as blue as the canopy whence they came; and the rose-coloured clouds, they had themselves created in the western sky, were not of fairer effulgence than the cheeks they appeared so fondly to kiss.
These were not in their brightest bloom. Though slightly blanched, neither were they pale. The strongest emotion could not produce absolute pallor on the cheeks of Marion Wade—where the rose never altogether gave place to the lily. ”