I am intimate with
an officer who told me all about him. When not under the influence
of drink, the general is one of the kindest-hearted men in the
world. To his wife he is tender and indulgent almost to a fault, if
that were possible. But liquor seems to put the devil into him.
Drink drowns his better nature and changes him into a half-insane
fiend. I am told that he came near killing his wife more than once
in a drunken phrensy."
"You pain me beyond measure. Poor lady! I don't wonder that the life
went out of her so suddenly, nor at the terror I saw in her face.
Can nothing be done? Has he no friends here who will draw him out of
the supper-room and get him away before he loses control of
himself?"
"It is too late. If he has begun to drink, it is all over. You might
as well try to draw off a wolf who has tasted blood."
"Does he become violent? Are we going to have a drunken scene?"
"Oh no; we need apprehend nothing of that kind. I never heard of his
committing any public folly. The devil that enters into him is not a
rioting, boisterous fiend, but quiet, malignant, suspicious and
cruel."
"Suspicious? Of what?"
"Of everybody and everything. His brother officers are in league
against him; his wife is regarded with jealousy; your frankest
speech covers in his view some hidden and sinister meaning. You must
be careful of your attentions to Mrs. Abercrombie to-night, for he
will construe them adversely, and pour out his wrath on her
defenceless head when they are alone.
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