"Certainly I remember, madam," he said. "Do you think it possible for
any one to forget your charming ladyship? And could any thing be more
delightful than this interview between two old friends? But let us
reserve these sweet confidences, these gushing emotions! One thing only
is wanting, to perfect the happiness of this moment; the presence this
evening of _your dear brother_!--but he is doubtless detained
elsewhere!"
Mohun's expression was singular as he uttered these words. The prisoner
looked at him as he was speaking with an indescribable smile. I can
only compare it to that of the swordsman about to deliver a mortal
lunge.
"My brother," she said, in accents as soft as a flute; "detained
elsewhere, do you say, sir? You are mistaken in supposing so. He
commanded the cavalry with which you were fighting to-night!"
At these words, uttered in a strange, mocking voice, I saw Mohun start
as if a rattlesnake had bitten his heel. With all his self-possession
he could not restrain this exhibition of emotion.
"Impossible! You are deceiving me--"
The prisoner interrupted him with a gay laugh.
"So you do not believe me," she said; "you think, my dear sir, that
everybody is dead but yourself! Dismiss that idea from your mind! _I_
am not dead, since we have the pleasure of again meeting in the flesh.
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