V. How the Brigadier Triumphed in England
I have told you, my friends, how I triumphed over the English at thefox-hunt when I pursued the animal so fiercely that even the herd oftrained dogs was unable to keep up, and alone with my own hand I put himto the sword. Perhaps I have said too much of the matter, but there isa thrill in the triumphs of sport which even warfare cannot give, for inwarfare you share your successes with your regiment and your army, butin sport it is you yourself unaided who have won the laurels. It is anadvantage which the English have over us that in all classes they takegreat interest in every form of sport. It may be that they are richerthan we, or it may be that they are more idle: but I was surprised whenI was a prisoner in that country to observe how widespread was thisfeeling, and how much it filled the minds and the lives of the people. Ahorse that will run, a cock that will fight, a dog that will kill rats,a man that will box--they would turn away from the Emperor in all hisglory in order to look upon any of these.
I could tell you many stories of English sport, for I saw much of itduring the time that I was the guest of Lord Rufton, after the orderfor my exchange had come to England. There were months before I could besent back to France, and during this time I stayed with this good LordRufton at his beautiful house of High Combe, which is at the northernend of Dartmoor. He had ridden with the police when they had pursuedme from Princetown, and he had felt toward me when I was overtaken asI would myself have felt had I, in my own country, seen a brave anddebonair soldier without a friend to help him. In a word, he took me tohis house, clad me, fed me, and treated me as if he had been my brother.I will say this of the English, that they were always generous enemies,and very good people with whom to fight.
In the Peninsula the Spanish outposts would present their muskets atours, but the British their brandy-flasks. And of all these generous menthere was none who was the equal of this admirable milord, who held outso warm a hand to an enemy in distress.
Ah! what thoughts of sport it brings back to me, the very name of HighCombe! I can see it now, the long, low brick house, warm and ruddy, withwhite plaster pillars before the door. He was a great sportsman, thisLord Rufton, and all who were about him were of the same sort. But youwill be pleased to hear that there were few things in which I couldnot hold my own, and in some I excelled. Behind the house was a wood inwhich pheasants were reared, and it was Lord Rufton's joy to kill thesebirds, which was done by sending in men to drive them out while he andhis friends stood outside and shot them as they passed. For my part, Iwas more crafty, for I studied the habits of the bird, and stealing outin the evening I was able to kill a number of them as they roosted inthe trees. Hardly a single shot was wasted, but the keeper was attractedby the sound of the firing, and he implored me in his rough Englishfashion to spare those that were left. That night I was able to placetwelve birds as a surprise upon Lord Rufton's supper-table, and helaughed until he cried, so overjoyed was he to see them. "Gad, Gerard,you'll be the death of me yet!" he cried. Often he said the same thing,for at every turn I amazed him by the way in which I entered into thesports of the English.
There is a game called cricket which they play in the summer, and thisalso I learned. Rudd, the head gardener, was a famous player of cricket,and so was Lord Rufton himself. Before the house was a lawn, and hereit was that Rudd taught me the game. It is a brave pastime, a game forsoldiers, for each tries to strike the other with the ball, and it isbut a small stick with which you may ward it off. Three sticks behindshow the spot beyond which you may not retreat. I can tell you that itis no game for children, and I will confess that, in spite of my ninecampaigns, I felt myself turn pale when first the ball flashed past me.So swift was it that I had not time to raise my stick to ward it off,but by good fortune it missed me and knocked down the wooden pins whichmarked the boundary. It was for Rudd then to defend himself and for meto attack. When I was a boy in Gascony I learned to throw both far andstraight, so that I made sure that I could hit this gallant Englishman.
With a shout I rushed forward and hurled the ball at him. It flew asswift as a bullet toward his ribs, but without a word he swung his staffand the ball rose a surprising distance in the air. Lord Rufton clappedhis hands and cheered. Again the ball was brought to me, and again itwas for me to throw. This time it flew past his head, and it seemed tome that it was his turn to look pale.
But he was a brave man, this gardener, and again he faced me. Ah, myfriends, the hour of my triumph had come! It was a red waistcoat thathe wore, and at this I hurled the ball. You would have said that I wasa gunner, not a hussar, for never was so straight an aim. With adespairing cry--the cry of the brave man who is beaten--he fell upon thewooden pegs behind him, and they all rolled upon the ground together. Hewas cruel, this English milord, and he laughed so that he could not cometo the aid of his servant. It was for me, the victor, to rush forward toembrace this intrepid player, and to raise him to his feet with words ofpraise, and encouragement, and hope. He was in pain and could not standerect, yet the honest fellow confessed that there was no accident in myvictory. "He did it a-purpose! He did it a-purpose!"
Again and again he said it. Yes, it is a great game this cricket, and Iwould gladly have ventured upon it again but Lord Rufton and Rudd saidthat it was late in the season, and so they would play no more.
How foolish of me, the old, broken man, to dwell upon these successes,and yet I will confess that my age has been very much soothed andcomforted by the memory of the women who have loved me and the men whomI have overcome. It is pleasant to think that five years afterward, whenLord Rufton came to Paris after the peace, he was able to assure me thatmy name was still a famous one in the north of Devonshire for the fineexploits that I had performed. Especially, he said, they still talkedover my boxing match with the Honourable Baldock. It came about in thisway. Of an evening many sportsmen would assemble at the house of LordRufton, where they would drink much wine, make wild bets, and talkof their horses and their foxes. How well I remember those strangecreatures. Sir Barrington, Jack Lupton, of Barnstable, Colonel Addison,Johnny Miller, Lord Sadler, and my enemy, the Honourable Baldock.They were of the same stamp all of them, drinkers, madcaps, fighters,gamblers, full of strange caprices and extraordinary whims. Yet theywere kindly fellows in their rough fashion, save only this Baldock, afat man, who prided himself on his skill at the box-fight. It was hewho, by his laughter against the French because they were ignorantof sport, caused me to challenge him in the very sport at which heexcelled. You will say that it was foolish, my friends, but the decanterhad passed many times, and the blood of youth ran hot in my veins. Iwould fight him, this boaster; I would show him that if we had not skillat least we had courage. Lord Rufton would not allow it. I insisted. Theothers cheered me on and slapped me on the back. "No, dash it, Baldock,he's our guest," said Rufton. "It's his own doing," the other answered."Look here, Rufton, they can't hurt each other if they wear themawleys," cried Lord Sadler. And so it was agreed.
What the mawleys were I did not know, but presently they brought outfour great puddings of leather, not unlike a fencing glove, but larger.With these our hands were covered after we had stripped ourselves ofour coats and our waistcoats. Then the table, with the glasses anddecanters, was pushed into the corner of the room, and behold us; faceto face! Lord Sadler sat in the arm-chair with a watch in his open hand."Time!" said he.
I will confess to you, my friends, that I felt at that moment a tremorsuch as none of my many duels have ever given me. With sword or pistolI am at home, but here I only understood that I must struggle with thisfat Englishman and do what I could, in spite of these great puddingsupon my hands, to overcome him. And at the very outset I was disarmedof the best weapon that was left to me. "Mind, Gerard, no kicking!" saidLord Rufton in my ear. I had only a pair of thin dancing slippers, andyet the man was fat, and a few well-directed kicks might have left methe victor. But there is an etiquette just as there is in fencing, andI refrained. I looked at this Englishman and I wondered how I shouldat
tack him. His ears were large and prominent. Could I seize them Imight drag him to the ground. I rushed in, but I was betrayed by thisflabby glove, and twice I lost my hold. He struck me, but I cared littlefor his blows, and again I seized him by the ear. He fell, and I rolledupon him and thumped his head upon the ground.
How they cheered and laughed, these gallant Englishmen, and how theyclapped me on the back!
"Even money on the Frenchman," cried Lord Sadler.
"He fights foul," cried my enemy, rubbing his crimson ears. "He savagedme on the ground."
"You must take your chance of that," said Lord Rufton, coldly.
"Time!" cried Lord Sadler, and once again we advanced to the assault.
He was flushed, and his small eyes were as vicious as those of abull-dog. There was hatred on his face. For my part I carried myselflightly and gaily. A French gentleman fights but he does not hate. Idrew myself up before him, and I bowed as I have done in the duello.
There can be grace and courtesy as well as defiance in a bow; I putall three into this one, with a touch of ridicule in the shrug whichaccompanied it. It was at this moment that he struck me. The room spunround me. I fell upon my back. But in an instant I was on my feet againand had rushed to a close combat. His ear, his hair, his nose, I seizedthem each in turn. Once again the mad joy of the battle was in my veins.The old cry of triumph rose to my lips. "Vive l'Empereur!" I yelled asI drove my head into his stomach. He threw his arm round my neck, andholding me with one hand he struck me with the other. I buried myteeth in his arm, and he shouted with pain. "Call him off, Rufton!" hescreamed.
"Call him off, man! He's worrying me!" They dragged me away from him.Can I ever forget it?--the laughter, the cheering, the congratulations!Even my enemy bore me no ill-will, for he shook me by the hand. For mypart I embraced him on each cheek. Five years afterward I learned fromLord Rufton that my noble bearing upon that evening was still fresh inthe memory of my English friends.
It is not, however, of my own exploits in sport that I wish to speak toyou to-night, but it is of the Lady Jane Dacre and the strange adventureof which she was the cause. Lady Jane Dacre was Lord Rufton's sister andthe lady of his household. I fear that until I came it was lonely forher, since she was a beautiful and refined woman with nothing in commonwith those who were about her. Indeed, this might be said of manywomen in the England of those days, for the men were rude and rough andcoarse, with boorish habits and few accomplishments, while the womenwere the most lovely and tender that I have ever known. We became greatfriends, the Lady Jane and I, for it was not possible for me to drinkthree bottles of port after dinner like those Devonshire gentlemen, andso I would seek refuge in her drawing-room, where evening after eveningshe would play the harpsichord and I would sing the songs of my ownland. In those peaceful moments I would find a refuge from the miserywhich filled me, when I reflected that my regiment was left in the frontof the enemy without the chief whom they had learned to love and tofollow.
Indeed, I could have torn my hair when I read in the English papers ofthe fine fighting which was going on in Portugal and on the frontiers ofSpain, all of which I had missed through my misfortune in falling intothe hands of Milord Wellington.
From what I have told you of the Lady Jane you will have guessed whatoccurred, my friends. Etienne Gerard is thrown into the company of ayoung and beautiful woman. What must it mean for him? What must it meanfor her? It was not for me, the guest, the captive, to make love to thesister of my host. But I was reserved.
I was discreet. I tried to curb my own emotions and to discourage hers.For my own part I fear that I betrayed myself, for the eye becomes moreeloquent when the tongue is silent. Every quiver of my fingers asI turned over her music-sheets told her my secret. But she--shewas admirable. It is in these matters that women have a genius fordeception. If I had not penetrated her secret I should often havethought that she forgot even that I was in the house. For hours shewould sit lost in a sweet melancholy, while I admired her pale face andher curls in the lamp-light, and thrilled within me to think that I hadmoved her so deeply. Then at last I would speak, and she would startin her chair and stare at me with the most admirable pretence of beingsurprised to find me in the room. Ah! how I longed to hurl myselfsuddenly at her feet, to kiss her white hand, to assure her that I hadsurprised her secret and that I would not abuse her confidence.
But no, I was not her equal, and I was under her roof as a castawayenemy. My lips were sealed. I endeavoured to imitate her own wonderfulaffectation of indifference, but, as you may think? I was eagerly alertfor any opportunity of serving her.
One morning Lady Jane had driven in her phaeton to Okehampton, and Istrolled along the road which led to that place in the hope that I mightmeet her on her return.
It was the early winter, and banks of fading fern sloped down to thewinding road. It is a bleak place this Dartmoor, wild and rocky--acountry of wind and mist.
I felt as I walked that it is no wonder Englishmen should suffer fromthe spleen. My own heart was heavy within me, and I sat upon a rockby the wayside looking out on the dreary view with my thoughts full oftrouble and foreboding. Suddenly, however, as I glanced down the road,I saw a sight which drove everything else from my mind, and caused me toleap to my feet with a cry of astonishment and anger.
Down the curve of the road a phaeton was coming, the pony tearing alongat full gallop. Within was the very lady whom I had come to meet. Shelashed at the pony like one who endeavours to escape from some pressingdanger, glancing ever backward over her shoulder. The bend of the roadconcealed from me what it was that had alarmed her, and I ran forwardnot knowing what to expect.
The next instant I saw the pursuer, and my amazement was increased atthe sight. It was a gentleman in the red coat of an English fox-hunter,mounted on a great grey horse. He was galloping as if in a race, and thelong stride of the splendid creature beneath him soon brought him up tothe lady's flying carriage. I saw him stoop and seize the reins of thepony, so as to bring it to a halt. The next instant he was deep in talkwith the lady, he bending forward in his saddle and speaking eagerly,she shrinking away from him as if she feared and loathed him.
You may think, my dear friends, that this was not a sight at whichI could calmly gaze. How my heart thrilled within me to think that achance should have been given to me to serve the Lady Jane! I ran--oh,good Lord, how I ran! At last, breathless, speechless, I reached thephaeton. The man glanced up at me with his blue English eyes, but sodeep was he in his talk that he paid no heed to me, nor did the lady saya word. She still leaned back, her beautiful pale face gazing up at him.He was a good-looking fellow--tall, and strong, and brown; a pang ofjealousy seized me as I looked at him. He was talking low and fast, asthe English do when they are in earnest.
"I tell you, Jinny, it's you and only you that I love," said he. "Don'tbear malice, Jinny. Let by-gones be by-gones. Come now, say it's allover."
"No, never, George, never!" she cried.
A dusky red suffused his handsome face. The man was furious.
"Why can't you forgive me, Jinny?"
"I can't forget the past."
"By George, you must! I've asked enough. It's time to order now. I'llhave my rights, d'ye hear?" His hand closed upon her wrist.
At last my breath had returned to me.
"Madame," I said, as I raised my hat, "do I intrude, or is there anypossible way in which I can be of service to you?"
But neither of them minded me any more than if I had been a fly whobuzzed between them. Their eyes were locked together.
"I'll have my rights, I tell you. I've waited long enough."
"There's no use bullying, George."
"Do you give in?"
"No, never!"
"Is that your final answer?"
"Yes, it is."
He gave a bitter curse and threw down her hand.
"All right, my lady, we'll see about this."
"Excuse me, sir!" said I, with dignity.
"Oh, go to blazes!
" he cried, turning on me with his furious face. Thenext instant he had spurred his horse and was galloping down the roadonce more.
Lady Jane gazed after him until he was out of sight, and I was surprisedto see that her face wore a smile and not a frown. Then she turned to meand held out her hand.
"You are very kind, Colonel Gerard. You meant well, I am sure."
"Madame," said I, "if you can oblige me with the gentleman's name andaddress I will arrange that he shall never trouble you again."
"No scandal, I beg of you," she cried.
"Madame, I could not so far forget myself. Rest assured that no lady'sname would ever be mentioned by me in the course of such an incident.In bidding me to go to blazes this gentleman has relieved me from theembarrassment of having to invent a cause of quarrel."
"Colonel Gerard," said the lady, earnestly, "you must give me your wordas a soldier and a gentleman that this matter goes no farther, andalso that you will say nothing to my brother about what you have seen.Promise me!"
"If I must."
"I hold you to your word. Now drive with me to High Combe, and I willexplain as we go."
The first words of her explanation went into me like a sabre-point.
"That gentleman," said she, "is my husband."
"Your husband!"
"You must have known that I was married." She seemed surprised at myagitation.
"I did not know."
"This is Lord George Dacre. We have been married two years. There is noneed to tell you how he wronged me. I left him and sought a refuge undermy brother's roof. Up till to-day he has left me there unmolested. WhatI must above all things avoid is the chance of a duel betwixt my husbandand my brother. It is horrible to think of. For this reason Lord Ruftonmust know nothing of this chance meeting of to-day."
"If my pistol could free you from this annoyance----"
"No, no, it is not to be thought of. Remember your promise, ColonelGerard. And not a word at High Combe of what you have seen!"
Her husband! I had pictured in my mind that she was a young widow. Thisbrown-faced brute with his "go to blazes" was the husband of this tenderdove of a woman. Oh, if she would but allow me to free her from soodious an encumbrance! There is no divorce so quick and certain as thatwhich I could give her. But a promise is a promise, and I kept it to theletter. My mouth was sealed.
In a week I was to be sent back from Plymouth to St. Malo, and it seemedto me that I might never hear the sequel of the story. And yet it wasdestined that it should have a sequel and that I should play a verypleasing and honourable part in it.
It was only three days after the event which I have described when LordRufton burst hurriedly into my room.
His face was pale and his manner that of a man in extreme agitation.
"Gerard," he cried, "have you seen Lady Jane Dacre?"
I had seen her after breakfast and it was now mid-day.
"By Heaven, there's villainy here!" cried my poor friend, rushing aboutlike a madman. "The bailiff has been up to say that a chaise and pairwere seen driving full split down the Tavistock Road. The blacksmithheard a woman scream as it passed his forge. Jane has disappeared. Bythe Lord, I believe that she has been kidnapped by this villain Dacre."He rang the bell furiously. "Two horses, this instant!" he cried."Colonel Gerard, your pistols! Jane comes back with me this night fromGravel Hanger or there will be a new master in High Combe Hall."
Behold us then within half an hour, like two knight-errants of old,riding forth to the rescue of this lady in distress. It was nearTavistock that Lord Dacre lived, and at every house and toll-gate alongthe road we heard the news of the flying post-chaise in front of us, sothere could be no doubt whither they were bound. As we rode Lord Ruftontold me of the man whom we were pursuing.
His name, it seems, was a household word throughout all England forevery sort of mischief. Wine, women, dice, cards, racing--in all formsof debauchery he had earned for himself a terrible name. He was of anold and noble family, and it had been hoped that he had sowed his wildoats when he married the beautiful Lady Jane Rufton.
For some months he had indeed behaved well, and then he had wounded herfeelings in their most tender part by some unworthy liaison. She hadfled from his house and taken refuge with her brother, from whose careshe had now been dragged once more, against her will. I ask you if twomen could have had a fairer errand than that upon which Lord Rufton andmyself were riding.
"That's Gravel Hanger," he cried at last, pointing with his crop, andthere on the green side of a hill was an old brick and timber buildingas beautiful as only an English country-house can be. "There's an inn bythe park-gate, and there we shall leave our horses," he added.
For my own part it seemed to me that with so just a cause we should havedone best to ride boldly up to his door and summon him to surrender thelady. But there I was wrong. For the one thing which every Englishmanfears is the law. He makes it himself, and when he has once made it itbecomes a terrible tyrant before whom the bravest quails. He will smileat breaking his neck, but he will turn pale at breaking the law. Itseems, then, from what Lord Rufton told me as we walked through thepark, that we were on the wrong side of the law in this matter. LordDacre was in the right in carrying off his wife, since she did indeedbelong to him, and our own position now was nothing better than that ofburglars and trespassers. It was not for burglars to openly approach thefront door. We could take the lady by force or by craft, but we couldnot take her by right, for the law was against us. This was what myfriend explained to me as we crept up toward the shelter of a shrubberywhich was close to the windows of the house. Thence we could examinethis fortress, see whether we could effect a lodgment in it, and, aboveall, try to establish some communication with the beautiful prisonerinside.
There we were, then, in the shrubbery, Lord Rufton and I, each with apistol in the pockets of our riding coats, and with the most resolutedetermination in our hearts that we should not return without the lady.
Eagerly we scanned every window of the wide-spread house.
Not a sign could we see of the prisoner or of anyone else; but on thegravel drive outside the door were the deep-sunk marks of the wheels ofthe chaise. There was no doubt that they had arrived. Crouching amongthe laurel bushes we held a whispered council of wary but a singularinterruption brought it to an end.
Out of the door of the house there stepped a tall, flaxen-haired man,such a figure as one would choose for the flank of a Grenadier company.As he turned his brown face and his blue eyes toward us I recognisedLord Dacre.
With long strides he came down the gravel path straight for the spotwhere we lay.
"Come out, Ned!" he shouted; "you'll have the game-keeper putting acharge of shot into you. Come out, man, and don't skulk behind thebushes."
It was not a very heroic situation for us. My poor friend rose with acrimson face. I sprang to my feet also and bowed with such dignity as Icould muster.
"Halloa! it's the Frenchman, is it?" said he, without returning my bow."I've got a crow to pluck with him already. As to you, Ned, I knew youwould be hot on our scent, and so I was looking out for you. I saw youcross the park and go to ground in the shrubbery. Come in, man, and letus have all the cards on the table."
He seemed master of the situation, this handsome giant of a man,standing at his ease on his own ground while we slunk out of ourhiding-place. Lord Rufton had said not a word, but I saw by his darkenedbrow and his sombre eyes that the storm was gathering. Lord Dacre ledthe way into the house, and we followed close at his heels.
He ushered us himself into an oak-panelled sitting-room, closing thedoor behind us. Then he looked me up and down with insolent eyes.
"Look here, Ned," said he, "time was when an English family could settletheir own affairs in their own way. What has this foreign fellow got todo with your sister and my wife?"
"Sir," said I, "permit me to point out to you that this is not a casemerely of a sister or a wife, but that I am the friend of the lady inquestion, and that I ha
ve the privilege which every gentleman possessesof protecting a woman against brutality. It is only by a gesture that Ican show you what I think of you." I had my riding glove in my hand, andI flicked him across the face with it. He drew back with a bitter smileand his eyes were as hard as flint.
"So you've brought your bully with you, Ned?" said he. "You might atleast have done your fighting yourself, if it must come to a fight."
"So I will," cried Lord Rufton. "Here and now."
"When I've killed this swaggering Frenchman," said Lord Dacre. Hestepped to a side table and opened a brass-bound case. "By Gad," saidhe, "either that man or I go out of this room feet foremost. I meantwell by you, Ned; I did, by George, but I'll shoot this led-captain ofyours as sure as my name's George Dacre. Take your choice of pistols,sir, and shoot across this table. The barkers are loaded. Aim straightand kill me if you can, for by the Lord if you don't, you're done."
In vain Lord Rufton tried to take the quarrel upon himself. Two thingswere clear in my mind--one that the Lady Jane had feared above allthings that her husband and brother should fight, the other that if Icould but kill this big milord, then the whole question would be settledforever in the best way. Lord Rufton did not want him. Lady Jane did notwant him. Therefore, I, Etienne Gerard, their friend, would pay the debtof gratitude which I owed them by freeing them of this encumbrance. But,indeed, there was no choice in the matter, for Lord Dacre was as eagerto put a bullet into me as I could be to do the same service to him. Invain Lord Rufton argued and scolded. The affair must continue.
"Well, if you must fight my guest instead of myself, let it be to-morrowmorning with two witnesses," he cried, at last; "this is sheer murderacross the table."
"But it suits my humour, Ned," said Lord Dacre.
"And mine, sir," said I.
"Then I'll have nothing to do with it," cried Lord Rufton. "I tell you,George, if you shoot Colonel Gerard under these circumstances you'llfind yourself in the dock instead of on the bench. I won't act assecond, and that's flat."
"Sir," said I, "I am perfectly prepared to proceed without a second."
"That won't do. It's against the law," cried Lord Dacre. "Come, Ned,don't be a fool. You see we mean to fight. Hang it, man, all I want youto do is to drop a handkerchief."
"I'll take no part in it."
"Then I must find someone who will," said Lord Dacre.
He threw a cloth over the pistols which lay upon the table, and he rangthe bell. A footman entered. "Ask Colonel Berkeley if he will step thisway. You will find him in the billiard-room."
A moment later there entered a tall thin Englishman with a greatmoustache, which was a rare thing amid that clean-shaven race. I haveheard since that they were worn only by the Guards and the Hussars. ThisColonel Berkeley was a guardsman. He seemed a strange, tired, languid,drawling creature with a long black cigar thrusting out, like a polefrom a bush, amidst that immense moustache. He looked from one to theother of us with true English phlegm, and he betrayed not the slightestsurprise when he was told our intention.
"Quite so," said he; "quite so."
"I refuse to act, Colonel Berkeley," cried Lord Rufton.
"Remember, this duel cannot proceed without you, and I hold youpersonally responsible for anything that happens."
This Colonel Berkeley appeared to be an authority upon the question,for he removed the cigar from his mouth and he laid down the law in hisstrange, drawling voice.
"The circumstances are unusual but not irregular, Lord Rufton," said he."This gentleman has given a blow and this other gentleman has receivedit. That is a clear issue. Time and conditions depend upon the personwho demands satisfaction. Very good. He claims it here and now, acrossthe table. He is acting within his rights. I am prepared to accept theresponsibility."
There was nothing more to be said. Lord Rufton sat moodily in the cornerwith his brows drawn down and his hands thrust deep into the pockets ofhis riding-breeches.
Colonel Berkeley examined the two pistols and laid them both in thecentre of the table. Lord Dacre was at one end and I at the other, witheight feet of shining mahogany between us. On the hearth-rug with hisback to the fire, stood the tall colonel, his handkerchief in his lefthand, his cigar between two fingers of his right.
"When I drop the handkerchief," said he, "you will pick up your pistolsand you will fire at your own convenience. Are you ready?"
"Yes," we cried.
His hand opened and the handkerchief fell. I bent swiftly forward andseized a pistol, but the table, as I have said, was eight feet across,and it was easier for this long-armed milord to reach the pistols thanit was for me.
I had not yet drawn myself straight before he fired, and to this it wasthat I owe my life. His bullet would have blown out my brains had I beenerect. As it was it whistled through my curls. At the same instant, justas I threw up my own pistol to fire, the door flew open and a pair ofarms were thrown round me. It was the beautiful, flushed, frantic faceof Lady Jane which looked up into mine.
"You sha'n't fire! Colonel Gerard, for my sake don't fire," she cried."It is a mistake, I tell you, a mistake, a mistake! He is the best anddearest of husbands. Never again shall I leave his side." Her hands sliddown my arm and closed upon my pistol.
"Jane, Jane," cried Lord Rufton; "come with me. You should not be here.Come away."
"It is all confoundedly irregular," said Colonel Berkeley.
"Colonel Gerard, you won't fire, will you? My heart would break if hewere hurt."
"Hang it all, Jinny, give the fellow fair play," cried Lord Dacre. "Hestood my fire like a man, and I won't see him interfered with. Whateverhappens I can't get worse than I deserve."
But already there had passed between me and the lady a quick glance ofthe eyes which told her everything.
Her hands slipped from my arm. "I leave my husband's life and my ownhappiness to Colonel Gerard," said she.
How well she knew me, this admirable woman! I stood for an instantirresolute, with the pistol cocked in my hand. My antagonist faced mebravely, with no blenching of his sunburnt face and no flinching of hisbold, blue eyes.
"Come, come, sir, take your shot!" cried the colonel from the mat.
"Let us have it, then," said Lord Dacre.
I would, at least, show them how completely his life was at the mercy ofmy skill. So much I owed to my own self-respect. I glanced round for amark. The colonel was looking toward my antagonist, expecting to see himdrop. His face was sideways to me, his long cigar projecting from hislips with an inch of ash at the end of it.
Quick as a flash I raised my pistol and fired.
"Permit me to trim your ash, sir," said I, and I bowed with a gracewhich is unknown among these islanders.
I am convinced that the fault lay with the pistol and not with my aim.I could hardly believe my own eyes when I saw that I had snapped off thecigar within half an inch of his lips. He stood staring at me with theragged stub of the cigar-end sticking out from his singed mustache. Ican see him now with his foolish, angry eyes and his long, thin, puzzledface. Then he began to talk. I have always said that the English are notreally a phlegmatic or a taciturn nation if you stir them out of theirgroove. No one could have talked in a more animated way than thiscolonel. Lady Jane put her hands over her ears.
"Come, come, Colonel Berkeley," said Lord Dacre, sternly, "you forgetyourself. There is a lady in the room."
The colonel gave a stiff bow.
"If Lady Dacre will kindly leave the room," said he,
"I will be able to tell this infernal little Frenchman what I think ofhim and his monkey tricks."
I was splendid at that moment, for I ignored the words that he had saidand remembered only the extreme provocation.
"Sir," said I, "I freely offer you my apologies for this unhappyincident. I felt that if I did not discharge my pistol Lord Dacre'shonour might feel hurt, and yet it was quite impossible for me, afterhearing what this lady has said, to aim it at her husband. I lookedround for a mark, therefore, and
I had the extreme misfortune to blowyour cigar out of your mouth when my intention had merely been to snuffthe ash. I was betrayed by my pistol. This is my explanation, sir,and if after listening to my apologies you still feel that I owe yousatisfaction, I need not say that it is a request which I am unable torefuse."
It was certainly a charming attitude which I had assumed, and it won thehearts of all of them. Lord Dacre stepped forward and wrung me by thehand. "By George, sir," said he, "I never thought to feel toward aFrenchman as I do to you. You're a man and a gentleman, and I can't saymore." Lord Rufton said nothing, but his hand-grip told me all that hethought. Even Colonel Berkeley paid me a compliment, and declared thathe would think no more about the unfortunate cigar.
And she--ah, if you could have seen the look she gave me, the flushedcheek, the moist eye, the tremulous lip!
When I think of my beautiful Lady Jane it is at that moment thatI recall her. They would have had me stay to dinner, but you willunderstand, my friends, that this was no time for either Lord Rufton ormyself to remain at Gravel Hanger. This reconciled couple desiredonly to be alone. In the chaise he had persuaded her of his sincererepentance, and once again they were a loving husband and wife. If theywere to remain so it was best perhaps that I should go. Why should Iunsettle this domestic peace? Even against my own will my mere presenceand appearance might have their effect upon the lady. No, no, I musttear myself away--even her persuasions were unable to make me stop.Years afterward I heard that the household of the Dacres was among thehappiest in the whole country, and that no cloud had ever come again todarken their lives. Yet I dare say if he could have seen into his wife'smind--but there, I say no more! A lady's secret is her own, and I fearthat she and it are buried long years ago in some Devonshire churchyard.Perhaps all that gay circle are gone and the Lady Jane only lives nowin the memory of an old half-pay French brigadier. He at least can neverforget.