The Colonel
would not hear of counsels of moderation, such as I bore him from a sweet
Christian pleader. "Remorse!" he cried out with a laugh, "that villain
will never feel it until he is tied up and whipped at the cart's tail!
Time change that rogue! Unless he is wholesomely punished, he will grow a
greater scoundrel every year. I am inclined to think, sir," says he, his
honest brows darkling as he looked towards me, "that you too are spoiled
by this wicked world, and these heartless, fashionable, fine people. You
wish to live well with the enemy, and with us too, Pendennis. It can't
be. He who is not with us is against us. I very much fear, sir, that the
women, the women, you understand, have been talking you over. Do not let
us speak any more about this subject, for I don't wish that my son, and
my son's old friend, should have a quarrel." His face became red, his
voice quivered with agitation, and he looked with glances which I was
pained to behold in those kind old eyes: not because his wrath and
suspicion visited myself, but because an impartial witness, nay, a friend
to Thomas Newcome in that family quarrel, I grieved to think that a
generous heart was led astray, and to see a good man do wrong.
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