confusion, and buried her face in the
musk-scented handkerchief. Tom and I, where we stood _perdus_, burst
into uncontrollable shouts of laughter. Poor Belle gave one blank look
of utter terror at the _tout ensemble_ of brown stuff, straw poke, and
chestnut front. He forgot courtesy, manners, and everything else; his
lips were parted, with his small white teeth glancing under his silky
moustaches, his sleepy eyes were open wide, and as the maiden lady
dropped her handkerchief, and gave him what she meant to be the softest
and most tender glance, he turned straight round, sprang on his bay, and
rushed down the Yarmouth road as if the whole of the dignitaries of the
church and law were tearing after him to force him _nolens volens_ into
carrying out the horrible promise in his cursed line in the _Daily_.
What was Tom's and my amazement to see the maiden lady seat herself
astride on the milestone, and join her cachinnatory shouts to ours,
fling her green veil into a hawthorn tree, jerk her bonnet into our
faces, kick off her brown stuff into the middle of the road, tear off
her chestnut front and yellow mask, and perform a frantic war-dance on
the roadside turf. No less a person than that mischievous monkey and
inimitable mimic Little Nell!

"You young demon!" shouted Gower, shrieking with laughter till he cried.
"A pretty fellow you are to go tricking your senior officer like this.
You little imp, how can you tell but what I shall court-martial you
to-morrow?"

"No, no, you won't!" cried Little Nell, pursuing his frantic dance.
"Wasn't it prime? wasn't it glorious? wasn't it worth the Kohinoor to
see? You won't go and peach, when I've just given you a better farce
than all old Buckstone's? By Jove! Belle's face at my chestnut front!
This'll be one of his prime conquests, eh? I say, old fellows, when
Charles Mathews goes to glory, don't you think I might take his place,
and beat him hollow, too?"

When we got back to barracks, we found Belle prostrate on his sofa,
heated, injured, crestfallen, solacing himself with Seltzer-and-water,
and swearing away anything but mildly at that "wretched old woman." He
bound us over to secrecy, which, with Little Nell's confidence in our
minds, we naturally promised. Poor Belle! to have been made a fool of
before two was humiliation more than sufficient for our all-conquering
_blondin_. For one who had so often refused to stir across a ball-room
to look at a Court beauty, to have ridd