And so that the light might dazzle as many as possible, she
invited a dozen neighbors to dinner on Boxing Day and sprung the
story on poor Mr. Vetch as he sat at the head of his own table.
('Tis marvelous what strange ineptitudes mar the characters of
excellent good folk.)
Luckily our good friend Captain Galsworthy was among the guests. He
ever treated poor Becky with a sort of good-humored tolerance, and
now, perceiving the shadow that crossed the lawyer's face, he broke
in upon the dame's loquacity with a tremendous tirade against the
captains who had behaved so treacherously towards Mr. Benbow (the
story of whose last fight he had already drunk in from my lips).
"How can you wonder at it," he cried, "when you remember the
covetous spirit that overspread the kingdom before Dutch William
came to rule us--when men perfectly scrambled for the revenues of
the crown, and made their private fortunes out of the nation's
treasure! 'Tis a matter of years, ay, generations, to undo all the
mischief that springs from such corruption; and when money, oftener
than merit, gained admission to a command, no wonder that such
scoundrels as Wade and Kirkby were trusted with our men-of-war.
"By God, sir!--" and here he raised his clenched fist, no doubt to
bang upon the table; but being seated at the corner, very close to
the wall (the party being a large one for the room), he drove his
elbow clean through a wooden panel beside the fireplace.
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