"His Lordship himself will see you, sir. Of that I make no doubt,"
twittered the night-porter, fumbling with the bolt. "There was a
terrible disturbance, back in July, when Captain Bettesworth
arrived--not so late as this, to be sure, but towards midnight--and
they waited till morning, to carry up the dispatches with his
Lordship's chocolate. Thankful was I next day not to have been on
duty at the time. . . . If you will follow me, sir--"
Lieutenant Lapenotiere had turned instinctively towards a door on the
right. It admitted to the Waiting Room, and there were few officers
in the service who did not know--and only too well--that Chamber of
Hope Deferred.
"No, sir, . . . this way, if you please," the night-porter corrected
him, and opened a door on the left. "The Captains' Room," he
announced, passing in and steering for the chimney-shelf, on which
stood a pair of silver sconces each carrying three wax candles.
These he took down, lit and replaced. "Ah, sir! Many's the time
I've showed Lord Nelson himself into this room, in the days before
Sir Horatio, and even after. And you were sayin'--"
"I said nothing."
The man moved to the door; but halted there and came back, as though
in his own despite.
Pages:
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152