CHAPTER II. I SHOW MYSELF TO BE A MAN OF SPIRIT
During this dispute, my cousin Nora did the only thing that a lady,under such circumstances, could do, and fainted in due form. I was inhot altercation with Mick at the time, or I should have, of course,flown to her assistance, but Captain Fagan (a dry sort of fellow thisFagan was) prevented me, saying, 'I advise you to leave the younglady to herself, Master Redmond, and be sure she will come to.' And soindeed, after a while, she did, which has shown me since that Faganknew the world pretty well, for many's the lady I've seen in after timesrecover in a similar manner. Quin did not offer to help her, you may besure, for, in the midst of the diversion, caused by her screaming, thefaithless bully stole away.
'Which of us is Captain Quin to engage?' said I to Mick; for it was myfirst affair, and I was as proud of it as of a suit of laced velvet. 'Isit you or I, Cousin Mick, that is to have the honour of chastising thisinsolent Englishman?' And I held out my hand as I spoke, for my heartmelted towards my cousin under the triumph of the moment.
But he rejected the proffered offer of friendship. 'You--you!' said he,in a towering passion; 'hang you for a meddling brat: your hand is ineverybody's pie. What business had you to come brawling and quarrellinghere, with a gentleman who has fifteen hundred a year?'
'Oh,' gasped Nora, from the stone bench, 'I shall die: I know I shall. Ishall never leave this spot.'
'The Captain's not gone yet,' whispered Fagan; on which Nora, giving himan indignant look, jumped up and walked towards the house.
'Meanwhile,' Mick continued, 'what business have you, you meddlingrascal, to interfere with a daughter of this house?'
'Rascal yourself!' roared I: 'call me another such name, Mick Brady, andI'll drive my hanger into your weasand. Recollect, I stood to you when Iwas eleven years old. I'm your match now, and, by Jove, provoke me, andI'll beat you like--like your younger brother always did.' That was ahome-cut, and I saw Mick turn blue with fury.
'This is a pretty way to recommend yourself to the family,' said Fagan,in a soothing tone.
'The girl's old enough to be his mother,' growled Mick.
'Old or not,' I replied: 'you listen to this, Mick Brady' (and I swore atremendous oath, that need not be put down here): 'the man that marriesNora Brady must first kill me--do you mind that?'
'Pooh, sir,' said Mick, turning away, 'kill you--flog you, you mean!I'll send for Nick the huntsman to do it;' and so he went off.
Captain Fagan now came up, and taking me kindly by the hand, said I wasa gallant lad, and he liked my spirit. 'But what Brady says is true,'continued he; 'it's a hard thing to give a lad counsel who is in sucha far-gone state as you; but, believe me, I know the world, and if youwill but follow my advice, you won't regret having taken it. Nora Bradyhas not a penny; you are not a whit richer. You are but fifteen, andshe's four-and-twenty. In ten years, when you're old enough to marry,she will be an old woman; and, my poor boy, don't you see--though it's ahard matter to see--that she's a flirt, and does not care a pin for youor Quin either?'
But who in love (or in any other point, for the matter of that) listensto advice? I never did, and I told Captain Fagan fairly, that Nora mightlove me or not as she liked, but that Quin should fight me before hemarried her--that I swore.
'Faith,' says Fagan, 'I think you are a lad that's likely to keep yourword;' and, looking hard at me for a second or two, he walked awaylikewise, humming a tune: and I saw he looked back at me as he wentthrough the old gate out of the garden. When he was gone, and I wasquite alone, I flung myself down on the bench where Nora had madebelieve to faint, and had left her handkerchief; and, taking it up, hidmy face in it, and burst into such a passion of tears as I would thenhave had nobody see for the world. The crumpled riband which I had flungat Quin lay in the walk, and I sat there for hours, as wretched as anyman in Ireland, I believe, for the time being. But it's a changeableworld! When we consider how great our sorrows SEEM, and how small theyARE; how we think we shall die of grief, and how quickly we forget, Ithink we ought to be ashamed of ourselves and our fickle-heartedness.For, after all, what business has time to bring us consolation? Ihave not, perhaps, in the course of my multifarious adventures andexperience, hit upon the right woman; and have forgotten, after alittle, every single creature I adored; but I think, if I could but havelighted on the right one, I would have loved her for EVER.
I must have sat for some hours bemoaning myself on the garden bench, forit was morning when I came to Castle Brady, and the dinner-bellclanged as usual at three o'clock, which wakened me up from my reverie.Presently I gathered up the handkerchief, and once more took the riband.As I passed through the offices, I saw the Captain's saddle was stillhanging up at the stable-door, and saw his odious red-coated brute ofa servant swaggering with the scullion-girls and kitchen-people. 'TheEnglishman's still there, Master Redmond,' said one of the maids to me(a sentimental black-eyed girl, who waited on the young ladies). 'He'sthere in the parlour, with the sweetest fillet of vale; go in, and don'tlet him browbeat you, Master Redmond.'
And in I went, and took my place at the bottom of the big table, asusual, and my friend the butler speedily brought me a cover.
'Hallo, Reddy my boy!' said my uncle, 'up and well?--that's right.'
'He'd better be home with his mother,' growled my aunt.
'Don't mind her,' says Uncle Brady; 'it's the cold goose she ate atbreakfast didn't agree with her. Take a glass of spirits, Mrs. Brady, toRedmond's health.' It was evident he did not know of what had happened;but Mick, who was at dinner too, and Ulick, and almost all the girls,looked exceedingly black, and the Captain foolish; and Miss Nora, whowas again by his side, ready to cry. Captain Fagan sat smiling; and Ilooked on as cold as a stone. I thought the dinner would choke me: butI was determined to put a good face on it, and when the cloth was drawn,filled my glass with the rest; and we drank the King and the Church,as gentlemen should. My uncle was in high good-humour, and especiallyalways joking with Nora and the Captain. It was, 'Nora, divide thatmerry-thought with the Captain! see who'll be married first.' 'JackQuin, my dear boy, never mind a clean glass for the claret, we're shortof crystal at Castle Brady; take Nora's and the wine will taste none theworse;' and so on. He was in the highest glee,--I did not know why. Hadthere been a reconciliation between the faithless girl and her loversince they had come into the house?
I learned the truth very soon. At the third toast, it was always thecustom for the ladies to withdraw; but my uncle stopped them this time,in spite of the remonstrances of Nora, who said, 'Oh, pa! do let us go!'and said, 'No, Mrs. Brady and ladies, if you plaise; this is a sort oftoast that is drunk a great dale too seldom in my family, and you'llplaise to receive it with all the honours. Here's CAPTAIN AND MRS.JOHN QUIN, and long life to them. Kiss her, Jack, you rogue: for 'faithyou've got a treasure!'
'He has already '----I screeched out, springing up.
'Hold your tongue, you fool--hold your tongue!' said big Ulick, who satby me; but I wouldn't hear.
'He has already,' I screamed, 'been slapped in the face this morning,Captain John Quin; he's already been called coward, Captain John Quin;and this is the way I'll drink his health. Here's your health, CaptainJohn Quin!' And I flung a glass of claret into his face. I don't knowhow he looked after it, for the next moment I myself was under thetable, tripped up by Ulick, who hit me a violent cuff on the head as Iwent down; and I had hardly leisure to hear the general screaming andskurrying that was taking place above me, being so fully occupied withkicks, and thumps, and curses, with which Ulick was belabouring me. 'Youfool!' roared he--' you great blundering marplot--you silly beggarlybrat' (a thump at each), 'hold your tongue!' These blows from Ulick, ofcourse, I did not care for, for he had always been my friend, and hadbeen in the habit of thrashing me all my life.
When I got up from under the table all the ladies were gone; and I hadthe satisfaction of seeing the Captain's nose was bleeding, as minewas--HIS was cut across the bridge, and his beauty spoiled for ever.Ulick shook hi
mself, sat down quietly, filled a bumper, and pushed thebottle to me. 'There, you young donkey,' said he, 'sup that; and let'shear no more of your braying.'
'In Heaven's name, what does all the row mean?' says my uncle. 'Is theboy in the fever again?'
'It's all your fault,' said Mick sulkily: 'yours and those who broughthim here.'
'Hold your noise, Mick!' says Ulick, turning on him; 'speak civil of myfather and me, and don't let me be called upon to teach you manners.'
'It IS your fault,' repeated Mick. 'What business has the vagabond here?If I had my will, I'd have him flogged and turned out.'
'And so he should be,' said Captain Quin.
'You'd best not try it, Quin,' said Ulick, who was always my champion;and turning to his father, 'The fact is, sir, that the young monkey hasfallen in love with Nora, and finding her and the Captain mighty sweetin the garden to-day, he was for murdering Jack Quin.'
'Gad, he's beginning young,' said my uncle, quite good-humouredly.''Faith, Fagan, that boy's a Brady, every inch of him.'
'And I'll tell you what, Mr. B.,' cried Quin, bristling up: 'I've beeninsulted grossly in this 'OUSE. I ain't at all satisfied with these hereways of going on. I'm an Englishman I am, and a man of property; andI--I'--'If you're insulted, and not satisfied, remember there's two ofus, Quin,' said Ulick gruffly. On which the Captain fell to washing hisnose in water, and answered never a word.
'Mr. Quin,' said I, in the most dignified tone I could assume, 'mayalso have satisfaction any time he pleases, by calling on Redmond Barry,Esquire, of Barryville.' At which speech my uncle burst out a-laughing(as he did at everything); and in this laugh, Captain Fagan, much to mymortification, joined. I turned rather smartly upon him, however, andbade him to understand that as for my cousin Ulick, who had been my bestfriend through life, I could put up with rough treatment from him; yet,though I was a boy, even that sort of treatment I would bear from himno longer; and any other person who ventured on the like would find me aman, to their cost. 'Mr. Quin,' I added, 'knows that fact very well; andif HE'S a man, he'll know where to find me.'
My uncle now observed that it was getting late, and that my mother wouldbe anxious about me. 'One of you had better go home with him,' said he,turning to his sons, 'or the lad may be playing more pranks.' But Ulicksaid, with a nod to his brother, 'Both of us ride home with Quin here.'
'I'm not afraid of Freny's people,' said the Captain, with a faintattempt at a laugh; 'my man is armed, and so am I.'
'You know the use of arms very well, Quin,' said Ulick; 'and no one candoubt your courage; but Mick and I will see you home for all that.'
'Why, you'll not be home till morning, boys. Kilwangan's a good ten milefrom here.'
'We'll sleep at Quin's quarters,' replied Ulick: 'WE'RE GOING TO STOP AWEEK THERE.'
'Thank you,' says Quin, very faint; 'it's very kind of you.'
'You'll be lonely, you know, without us.'
'Oh yes, very lonely!' says Quin.
'And in ANOTHER WEEK, my boy,' says Ulick (and here he whisperedsomething in the Captain's ear, in which I thought I caught the words'marriage,' 'parson,' and felt all my fury returning again).
'As you please,' whined out the Captain; and the horses were quicklybrought round, and the three gentlemen rode away.
Fagan stopped, and, at my uncle's injunction, walked across the oldtreeless park with me. He said that after the quarrel at dinner, hethought I would scarcely want to see the ladies that night, in whichopinion I concurred entirely; and so we went off without an adieu.
'A pretty day's work of it you have made, Master Redmond,' saidhe. 'What! you a friend to the Bradys, and knowing your uncle to bedistressed for money, try and break off a match which will bring fifteenhundred a year into the family? Quin has promised to pay off the fourthousand pounds which is bothering your uncle so. He takes a girlwithout a penny--a girl with no more beauty than yonder bullock.Well, well, don't look furious; let's say she IS handsome--there's noaccounting for tastes,--a girl that has been flinging herself at thehead of every man in these parts these ten years past, and MISSING themall. And you, as poor as herself, a boy of fifteen--well, sixteen, ifyou insist--and a boy who ought to be attached to your uncle as to yourfather'--
'And so I am,' said I.
'And this is the return you make him for his kindness! Didn't he harbouryou in his house when you were an orphan, and hasn't he given yourent-free your fine mansion of Barryville yonder? And now, when hisaffairs can be put into order, and a chance offers for his old age tobe made comfortable, who flings himself in the way of him andcompetence?--You, of all others; the man in the world most obliged tohim. It's wicked, ungrateful, unnatural. From a lad of such spirit asyou are, I expect a truer courage.'
'I am not afraid of any man alive,' exclaimed I (for this latter part ofthe Captain's argument had rather staggered me, and I wished, of course,to turn it--as one always should when the enemy's too strong); 'and it's_I_ am the injured man, Captain Fagan. No man was ever, since the worldbegan, treated so. Look here--look at this riband. I've worn it inmy heart for six months. I've had it there all the time of the fever.Didn't Nora take it out of her own bosom and give it me? Didn't she kissme when she gave it me, and call me her darling Redmond?'
'She was PRACTISING,' replied Mr. Fagan, with a sneer. 'I know women,sir. Give them time, and let nobody else come to the house, and they'llfall in love with a chimney-sweep. There was a young lady in Fermoy'--
'A young lady in flames,' roared I (but I used a still hotter word).'Mark this; come what will of it, I swear I'll fight the man whopretends to the hand of Nora Brady. I'll follow him, if it's into thechurch, and meet him there. I'll have his blood, or he shall have mine;and this riband shall be found dyed in it. Yes, and if I kill him, I'llpin it on his breast, and then she may go and take back her token.' ThisI said because I was very much excited at the time, and because I hadnot read novels and romantic plays for nothing.
'Well,' says Fagan after a pause, 'if it must be, it must. For a youngfellow, you are the most blood-thirsty I ever saw. Quin's a determinedfellow, too.'
'Will you take my message to him?' said I, quite eagerly.
'Hush!' said Fagan: 'your mother may be on the look-out. Here we are,close to Barryville.'
'Mind! not a word to my mother,' I said; and went into the houseswelling with pride and exultation to think that I should have a chanceagainst the Englishman I hated so.
Tim, my servant, had come up from Barryville on my mother's return fromchurch; for the good lady was rather alarmed at my absence, and anxiousfor my return. But he had seen me go in to dinner, at the invitation ofthe sentimental lady's-maid; and when he had had his own share of thegood things in the kitchen, which was always better furnished than oursat home, had walked back again to inform his mistress where I was, and,no doubt, to tell her, in his own fashion, of all the events that hadhappened at Castle Brady. In spite of my precautions to secrecy, then,I half suspected that my mother knew all, from the manner in which sheembraced me on my arrival, and received our guest, Captain Fagan. Thepoor soul looked a little anxious and flushed, and every now and thengazed very hard in the Captain's face; but she said not a word about thequarrel, for she had a noble spirit, and would as lief have seen anyoneof her kindred hanged as shirking from the field of honour. What hasbecome of those gallant feelings nowadays? Sixty years ago a man was aMAN, in old Ireland, and the sword that was worn by his side was at theservice of any gentleman's gizzard, upon the slightest difference. Butthe good old times and usages are fast fading away. One scarcely everyhears of a fair meeting now, and the use of those cowardly pistols, inplace of the honourable and manly weapon of gentlemen, has introduceda deal of knavery into the practice of duelling, that cannot besufficiently deplored.
When I arrived at home I felt that I was a man in earnest, and welcomingCaptain Fagan to Barryville, and introducing him to my mother, in amajestic and dignified way, said the Captain must be thirsty after hiswalk, and called upon Tim to bring
up a bottle of the yellow-sealedBordeaux, and cakes and glasses, immediately.
Tim looked at the mistress in great wonderment: and the fact is, thatsix hours previous I would as soon have thought of burning the housedown as calling for a bottle of claret on my own account; but I felt Iwas a man now, and had a right to command; and my mother felt this too,for she turned to the fellow and said, sharply, 'Don't you hear, yourascal, what YOUR MASTER says! Go, get the wine, and the cakes andglasses, directly.' Then (for you may be sure she did not give Tim thekeys of our little cellar) she went and got the liquor herself; and Timbrought it in, on the silver tray, in due form. My dear mother pouredout the wine, and drank the Captain welcome; but I observed her handshook very much as she performed this courteous duty, and the bottlewent clink, clink, against the glass. When she had tasted her glass,she said she had a headache, and would go to bed; and so I asked herblessing, as becomes a dutiful son--(the modern BLOODS have given up therespectful ceremonies which distinguished a gentleman in my time)--andshe left me and Captain Fagan to talk over our important business.
'Indeed,' said the Captain,' I see now no other way out of the scrapethan a meeting. The fact is, there was a talk of it at Castle Brady,after your attack upon Quin this afternoon, and he vowed that he wouldcut you in pieces: but the tears and supplications of Miss Honoriainduced him, though very unwillingly, to relent. Now, however, mattershave gone too far. No officer, bearing His Majesty's commission, canreceive a glass of wine on his nose--this claret of yours is very good,by the way, and by your leave we'll ring for another bottle--withoutresenting the affront. Fight you must; and Quin is a huge strongfellow.'
'He'll give the better mark,' said I. 'I am not afraid of him.'
'In faith,' said the Captain,' I believe you are not; for a lad, I neversaw more game in my life.'
'Look at that sword, sir,' says I, pointing to an elegant silver-mountedone, in a white shagreen case, that hung on the mantelpiece, under thepicture of my father, Harry Barry. 'It was with that sword, sir, that myfather pinked Mohawk O'Driscol, in Dublin, in the year 1740; with thatsword, sir, he met Sir Huddlestone Fuddlestone, the Hampshire baronet,and ran him through the neck. They met on horseback, with sword andpistol, on Hounslow Heath, as I dare say you have heard tell of, andthose are the pistols' (they hung on each side of the picture) 'whichthe gallant Barry used. He was quite in the wrong, having insulted LadyFuddlestone, when in liquor, at the Brentford assembly. But, like agentleman, he scorned to apologise, and Sir Huddlestone received a ballthrough his hat, before they engaged with the sword. I am Harry Barry'sson, sir, and will act as becomes my name and my quality.'
'Give me a kiss, my dear boy,' said Fagan, with tears in his eyes.'You're after my own soul. As long as Jack Fagan lives you shall neverwant a friend or a second.'
Poor fellow! he was shot six months afterwards, carrying orders to myLord George Sackville, at Minden, and I lost thereby a kind friend. Butwe don't know what is in store for us, and that night was a merry oneat least. We had a second bottle, and a third too (I could hear the poormother going downstairs for each, but she never came into the parlourwith them, and sent them in by the butler, Mr. Tim): and we partedat length, he engaging to arrange matters with Mr. Quin's second thatnight, and to bring me news in the morning as to the place where themeeting should take place. I have often thought since, how different myfate might have been, had I not fallen in love with Nora at that earlyage; and had I not flung the wine in Quin's face, and so brought onthe duel. I might have settled down in Ireland but for that (for MissQuinlan was an heiress, within twenty miles of us, and Peter Burke,of Kilwangan, left his daughter Judy L700 a year, and I might have hadeither of them, had I waited a few years). But it was in my fate to bea wanderer, and that battle with Quin sent me on my travels at a veryearly age: as you shall hear anon.
I never slept sounder in my life, though I woke a little earlier thanusual; and you may be sure my first thought was of the event of the day,for which I was fully prepared. I had ink and pen in my room--had I notbeen writing those verses to Nora but the day previous, like a poor fondfool as I was? And now I sat down and wrote a couple of letters more:they might be the last, thought I, that I ever should write in my life.The first was to my mother:--
'Honoured Madam'--I wrote--'This will not be given you unless I fall bythe hand of Captain Quin, whom I meet this day in the field of honour,with sword and pistol. If I die, it is as a good Christian and agentleman,--how should I be otherwise when educated by such a mother asyou? I forgive all my enemies--I beg your blessing as a dutiful son.I desire that my mare Nora, which my uncle gave me, and which I calledafter the most faithless of her sex, may be returned to Castle Brady,and beg you will give my silver-hiked hanger to Phil Purcell, thegamekeeper. Present my duty to my uncle and Ulick, and all the girls ofMY party there. And I remain your dutiful son,
'REDMOND BARRY.'
To Nora I wrote:--
'This letter will be found in my bosom along with the token you gave me.It will be dyed in my blood (unless I have Captain Quin's, whom Ihate, but forgive), and will be a pretty ornament for you on yourmarriage-day. Wear it, and think of the poor boy to whom you gave it,and who died (as he was always ready to do) for your sake.
'REDMOND.'
These letters being written, and sealed with my father's great silverseal of the Barry arms, I went down to breakfast; where my mother waswaiting for me, you may be sure. We did not say a single word about whatwas taking place: on the contrary, we talked of anything but that; aboutwho was at church the day before, and about my wanting new clothes nowI was grown so tall. She said I must have a suit against winter,if--if--she could afford it. She winced rather at the 'if,' Heaven blessher! I knew what was in her mind. And then she fell to telling me aboutthe black pig that must be killed, and that she had found the speckledhen's nest that morning, whose eggs I liked so, and other such triflingtalk. Some of these eggs were for breakfast, and I ate them with agood appetite; but in helping myself to salt I spilled it, on which shestarted up with a scream. 'THANK GOD,' said she, 'IT'S FALLEN TOWARDSME.' And then, her heart being too full, she left the room. Ah! theyhave their faults, those mothers; but are there any other women likethem?
When she was gone I went to take down the sword with which my father hadvanquished the Hampshire baronet, and, would you believe it?--the bravewoman had tied A NEW RIBAND to the hilt: for indeed she had the courageof a lioness and a Brady united. And then I took down the pistols, whichwere always kept bright and well oiled, and put some fresh flints Ihad into the locks, and got balls and powder ready against the Captainshould come. There was claret and a cold fowl put ready for him on thesideboard, and a case-bottle of old brandy too, with a couple of littleglasses on the silver tray with the Barry arms emblazoned. In afterlife, and in the midst of my fortune and splendour, I paid thirty-fiveguineas, and almost as much more interest, to the London goldsmith whosupplied my father with that very tray. A scoundrel pawnbroker wouldonly give me sixteen for it afterwards; so little can we trust thehonour of rascally tradesmen!
At eleven o'clock Captain Fagan arrived, on horseback, with a mounteddragoon after him. He paid his compliments to the collation which mymother's care had provided for him, and then said, 'Look ye, Redmond myboy; this is a silly business. The girl will marry Quin, mark my words;and as sure as she does you'll forget her. You are but a boy. Quin iswilling to consider you as such. Dublin's a fine place, and if you havea mind to take a ride thither and see the town for a month, here aretwenty guineas at your service. Make Quin an apology, and be off.'
'A man of honour, Mr. Fagan,' says I, 'dies, but never apologises. I'llsee the Captain hanged before I apologise.'
'Then there's nothing for it but a meeting.'
'My mare is saddled and ready,' says I; 'where's the meeting, and who'sthe Captain's second?'
'Your cousins go out with him,' answered Mr. Fagan.
'I'll ring for my groom to bring my mare round,' I said, 'as soon as youhave rested yoursel
f.' Tim was accordingly despatched for Nora, and Irode away, but I didn't take leave of Mrs. Barry. The curtains ofher bedroom windows were down, and they didn't move as we mounted andtrotted off... BUT TWO HOURS AFTERWARDS, you should have seen her as shecame tottering downstairs, and heard the scream which she gave as shehugged her boy to her heart, quite unharmed and without a wound in hisbody.
What had taken place I may as well tell here. When we got to the ground,Ulick, Mick, and the Captain were already there: Quin, flaming in redregimentals, as big a monster as ever led a grenadier company. The partywere laughing together at some joke of one or the other: and I must sayI thought this laughter very unbecoming in my cousins, who were met,perhaps, to see the death of one of their kindred.
'I hope to spoil this sport,' says I to Captain Fagan, in a great rage,'and trust to see this sword of mine in yonder big bully's body.'
'Oh! it's with pistols we fight,' replied Mr. Fagan. 'You are no matchfor Quin with the sword.'
'I'll match any man with the sword,' said I.
'But swords are to-day impossible; Captain Quin is--is lame. He knockedhis knee against the swinging park-gate last night, as he was ridinghome, and can scarce move it now.'
'Not against Castle Brady gate,' says I: 'that has been off the hingesthese ten years.' On which Fagan said it must have been some othergate, and repeated what he had said to Mr. Quin and my cousins, when, onalighting from our horses, we joined and saluted those gentlemen.
'Oh yes! dead lame,' said Ulick, coming to shake me by the hand, whileCaptain Quin took off his hat and turned extremely red. 'And very luckyfor you, Redmond my boy,' continued Ulick; 'you were a dead man else;for he is a devil of a fellow--isn't he, Fagan?'
'A regular Turk,' answered Fagan; adding, 'I never yet knew the man whostood to Captain Quin.'
'Hang the business!' said Ulick; 'I hate it. I'm ashamed of it. Sayyou're sorry, Redmond: you can easily say that.'
'If the young FELLER will go to DUBLING, as proposed'--here interposedMr. Quin.
'I am NOT sorry--I'll NOT apologise--and I'll as soon go to DUBLING asto--!' said I, with a stamp of my foot.
'There's nothing else for it,' said Ulick with a laugh to Fagan. 'Takeyour ground, Fagan,--twelve paces, I suppose?'
'Ten, sir,' said Mr. Quin, in a big voice; 'and make them short ones, doyou hear, Captain Fagan?'
'Don't bully, Mr. Quin,' said Ulick surlily; 'here are the pistols.' Andhe added, with some emotion, to me, 'God bless you, my boy; and when Icount three, fire.'
Mr. Fagan put my pistol into my hand,--that is, not one of mine (whichwere to serve, if need were, for the next round), but one of Ulick's.'They are all right,' said he. 'Never fear: and, Redmond, fire at hisneck--hit him there under the gorget. See how the fool shows himselfopen.' Mick, who had never spoken a word, Ulick, and the Captain retiredto one side, and Ulick gave the signal. It was slowly given, and I hadleisure to cover my man well. I saw him changing colour and trembling asthe numbers were given. At 'three,' both our pistols went off. I heardsomething whizz by me, and my antagonist, giving a most horrible groan,staggered backwards and fell.
'He's down--he's down!' cried the seconds, running towards him. Ulicklifted him up--Mick took his head.
'He's hit here, in the neck,' said Mick; and laying open his coat, bloodwas seen gurgling from under his gorget, at the very spot at which Iaimed.
'How is it with you?' said Ulick. 'Is he really hit?' said he, lookinghard at him. The unfortunate man did not answer, but when the supportof Ulick's arm was withdrawn from his back, groaned once more, and fellbackwards.
'The young fellow has begun well,' said Mick, with a scowl. 'You hadbetter ride off, young sir, before the police are up. They had wind ofthe business before we left Kilwangan.'
'Is he quite dead?' said I.
'Quite dead,' answered Mick.
'Then the world's rid of A COWARD,' said Captain Fagan, giving the hugeprostrate body a scornful kick with his foot. 'It's all over with him,Reddy,--he doesn't stir.'
'WE are not cowards, Fagan,' said Ulick roughly, 'whatever he was! Let'sget the boy off as quick as we may. Your man shall go for a cart, andtake away the body of this unhappy gentleman. This has been a sad day'swork for our family, Redmond Barry: you have robbed us of 1500(pounds) ayear.'
'It was Nora did it,' said I; 'not I.' And I took the riband she gave meout of my waistcoat, and the letter, and flung them down on the body ofCaptain Quin. 'There!' says I--'take her those ribands. She'll know whatthey mean: and that's all that's left to her of two lovers she had andruined.'
I did not feel any horror or fear, young as I was, in seeing my enemyprostrate before me; for I knew that I had met and conquered himhonourably in the field, as became a man of my name and blood.
'And now, in Heaven's name, get the youngster out of the way,' saidMick.
Ulick said he would ride with me, and off accordingly we galloped, neverdrawing bridle till we came to my mother's door. When there, Ulick toldTim to feed my mare, as I would have far to ride that day; and I was inthe poor mother's arms in a minute.
I need not tell how great were her pride and exultation when she heardfrom Ulick's lips the account of my behaviour at the duel. He urged,however, that I should go into hiding for a short time; and it wasagreed between them that I should drop my name of Barry, and, takingthat of Redmond, go to Dublin, and there wait until matters were blownover. This arrangement was not come to without some discussion; for whyshould I not be as safe at Barryville, she said, as my cousin and Ulickat Castle Brady?--bailiffs and duns never got near THEM; why shouldconstables be enabled to come upon me? But Ulick persisted in thenecessity of my instant departure; in which argument, as I was anxiousto see the world, I must confess, I sided with him; and my mother wasbrought to see that in our small house at Barryville, in the midst ofthe village, and with the guard but of a couple of servants, escapewould be impossible. So the kind soul was forced to yield to my cousin'sentreaties, who promised her, however, that the affair would soon bearranged, and that I should be restored to her. Ah! how little did heknow what fortune was in store for me!
My dear mother had some forebodings, I think, that our separation wasto be a long one; for she told me that all night long she had beenconsulting the cards regarding my fate in the duel: and that all thesigns betokened a separation; then, taking out a stocking from herescritoire, the kind soul put twenty guineas in a purse for me (she hadherself but twenty-five), and made up a little valise, to be placedat the back of my mare, in which were my clothes, linen, and a silverdressing-case of my father's. She bade me, too, to keep the sword andthe pistols I had known to use so like a man. She hurried my departurenow (though her heart, I know, was full), and almost in half-an-hourafter my arrival at home I was once more on the road again, with thewide world as it were before me. I need not tell how Tim and the cookcried at my departure: and, mayhap, I had a tear or two myself in myeyes; but no lad of sixteen is VERY sad who has liberty for the firsttime, and twenty guineas in his pocket: and I rode away, thinking, Iconfess, not so much of the kind mother left alone, and of the homebehind me, as of to-morrow, and all the wonders it would bring.