CHAPTER XV.
THE HALF-WAY HOUSE AGAIN.
I had previously given orders that my horse should be kept readysaddled in the stable, and I now bade the servant bring it round tothe door.
"Nay, there's no need to hurry," said Elmscott comfortably, throwinghis legs across a chair. "Marston will never start before themorning."
"He has started," I replied. "He has seven hours to the good already.He started between three and four of the afternoon."
"But you were to follow him," he exclaimed, starting up. "You knew theroad he was going. You were to follow him."
"He slipped through my fingers," said I, with some shame, for Elmscottwas regarding me with the same doubtful look which I had noticed sofrequently upon Jack Larke's face. "And as for knowing his road, 'twasa mere guess that flashed on me at the moment of your arrival."
"Well, well," said Elmscott, with a shrug, "order some supper, and ifyou can lend me a horse we will follow in half an hour."
Udal fetched a capon and a bottle of canary from the larder, andtogether we made short work of the meal. For, in truth, I was no lessfamished than Elmscott, though it needed his appetite to remind me ofthe fact. Meanwhile, I related in what manner Marston had escaped me,and handed him the letter which the servant had delivered to me in theLincoln's Inn Fields.
"In a bale of carpets!" cried Elmscott, with a fit of laughter whichpromised to choke him. "Gadsbud, but the fellow deserves to win! Wellwrapped up! Morrice, Morrice, I fear me he'll trip up your heels!"
Elmscott's hilarity, it may easily be understood, had little in itwhich could commend it to me, and I asked him abruptly by what meanshe had discovered that the Countess Lukstein was visiting in Bristol.
"I'll tell you that as we go," said he, with a mouth full of capon."At present I have but one object, to fill my stomach."
After we had set forth, which we did a short while beforemidnight--for I heard a clock tell that hour as we rode through thevillage of Knightsbridge--he explained how the conjecture had grown upin his mind.
"Marston came to you in the early morning, a week after the Countesshad left London. He was muddied and soiled, as though he had riddenhard all night. In fact, he told you as much himself, and gave you thereason: that he had been fighting out his battle with himself. Ireasoned, therefore, that he had only heard of this secret, whateverit may be, which put you at his mercy, the evening before. Now thatinformation came from his sister. It concerned Countess Lukstein. LadyTracy, you told me, for some reason feared the Countess. I argued thenthat it could only be this fear which made her write to her brother.But then she had been in England a month already. How was it that shehad not revealed her anxiety before? And further, how was it thatMarston knew what you and every one else was ignorant of--whereCountess Lukstein was staying? Lady Tracy, I was aware, had gone downto the family estate near Bristol; and I inferred in consequence thatshe had seen the Countess in the neighbourhood, that her alarm hadbeen increased by the sight, and that she had promptly communicatedher fears to her brother; which fears Marston made use of as a weaponagainst you. The period of Countess Lukstein's departure jumped mostaptly with my conjecture, and I thought it would be worth while toride to Bristol and discover the truth."
The notion seemed to me, upon his recounting it, so reasonable andclear that I wondered why it had never occurred to me, and expressedas much to Elmscott.
He laughed in reply.
"A man in love," said he, "is ever a damned fool. He smothers his mindin a petticoat."
The night was very open, the moon being in the last quarter, and theroad, from the dry summer, much harder than when I had travelled overit in the previous year; so that we made a good pace, and drew reinbefore the "Golden Crown" at Newbury about seven of the morning. Therewe discovered that two travellers had arrived at the inn a littleafter midnight with their horses very wearied; but, since Thursday wasmarket-day, and the inn consequently full, they had remained but alittle while to water their beasts, and had then pushed on towardsHungerford. Elmscott was for breakfasting at the "Golden Crown," but Ibethought me that Hungerford was but nine miles distant, and thatMarston was most like to have lain the night there. Consequently, ifwe pressed forward with all speed, there was a good chance that wemight overtake my rival or ever he had started from the town; in whichcase Elmscott, at all events, would be able to take his meal at hisleisure. To this view my companion assented, though with somereluctance, and we set off afresh across Wickham Heath. In a shorttime we came in view of the "Half-way House," and I related toElmscott my adventure with the landlord. As we rode past it, however,I perceived the worthy man going towards the stable with a bucket ofwater in his hand, and I hastily reined up.
"What is it?" asked Elmscott.
"The fellow has no horses of his own," I replied. "It follows he mustneeds have guests."
I dismounted as I spoke, and hailed the man.
"Potatoe!" I cried to him.
For a moment he looked at me in amazement, and then:
"Dang it!" he shouted. "The play-actor!" And he dropped the bucket,and ran towards me doubling his fists.
"I have a pass-word for you," I said, when he was near. "It lags ayear behind the time, it's true--Wastwater. So you see the mare wasmeant for me no less than your slugs."
He stopped, and answered doggedly:
"Well, 'twas your fault, master. You should have passed the word. Themare was left with me in strict trust, and you were ready enough withyour pistol to make an honest man believe you meant no good."
Elmscott broke in impatiently upon his apology with a demand forbreakfast. His wife, the landlord assured us, was preparing breakfasteven now for two gentlemen who had come over-night, and we might jointhem if they had no objection to our company. I asked him at what hourthese gentlemen had ridden up to the inn, and he answered about one ofthe morning. I could not repress an exclamation of joy. Elmscott gaveme a warning look and dismounted; he bade the landlord see the horsesgroomed and fed, and joined me in the road.
"Their faces will be a fine sight," said he, rubbing his hands, "whenwe take our seats at the table. A guinea-piece will be white incomparison." And he fell to devising plans by which our surprise mightproduce the most startling effect.
Strangely enough, it occurred to neither of us at the time that thesurest method of outwitting Marston was to leave him undisturbed tohis breakfast and ride forward to Bristol. But during these last daysthe anxiety and tension of my mind had so fanned my hatred of the man,that I could think of nothing but crossing swords with him. We wereboth, in a word, absorbed in a single quest; from wishing to outstrip,we had come to wish merely to overtake.
Elmscott gave orders to the innkeeper that he should inform us as soonas the two travellers were set down to their meal; and for the spaceof half an hour we strolled up and down, keeping the inn ever withinour view. At the end of that time I perceived a cloud of dust at abend of the road in the direction of Hungerford. It came rollingtowards us, and we saw that it was raised by a berlin which was drawnat a great speed by six horses.
"They travel early," said Elmscott carelessly. I looked at the coachagain, but this time with more attention.
"Quick!" I cried of a sudden, and drew Elmscott through an opening inthe hedge into the field that bordered the road. The next moment theberlin dashed by.
"Did you see?" I asked. "Otto Krax was on the box."
"Ay!" he answered. "And Countess Lukstein within the carriage. Whattakes her back so fast, I wonder? She will be in London two daysbefore her time."
We came out again from behind the hedge, and watched the carriagedwindling to a speck along the road.
"If you will, Morrice," said my cousin, with a great reluctance, "youcan let Marston journey to Bristol, and yourself follow the Countessto town."
"Nay!" said I shortly. "I have a mind to settle my accounts withMarston, and not later than this morning."
He brightened wonderfull
y at the words.
"'Twere indeed more than a pity to miss so promising an occasion. Butas I am your Mentor for the nonce, I deemed it right to mention thealternative--though I should have thought the less of you had youtaken my advice. Here comes the landlord to summon us to breakfast."
We followed him along the passage towards the kitchen. The door stoodhalf-opened, and peeping through the crack at the hinges, we could seeMarston and his friend seated at a table.
"Gentlemen," said Elmscott, stepping in with the politest bow, "willyou allow two friends to join your repast?"
Marston was in the act of raising a tankard to his lips; but save thathis face turned a shade paler, and his hand trembled so that a fewdrops of the wine were spilled upon the cloth, he betrayed none of thedisappointment which my cousin had fondly anticipated. He looked at ussteadily for a second, and then drained the tankard. His companion--aMr. Cuthbert Cliffe, with whom both Elmscott and myself wereacquainted--rose from his seat and welcomed us heartily. It wasevident that he was in the dark as to the object of our journey. Weseated ourselves opposite them on the other side of the table.Elmscott was somewhat dashed by the prosaic nature of the reception,and seemed at a loss how to broach the subject of the duel, whenMarston suddenly hissed at me:
"How the devil came you here?"
"On a magic carpet," replied Elmscott smoothly. "Like the Arabian, wecame upon a magic carpet."
Marston rose from the table and walked to the fireplace, where hestood kicking the logs with the toe of his boot, and laughing tohimself in a short, affected way, as men are used who seek to cover upa mortification. Then he turned again to me.
"Very well," he said, with a nod, "and the sooner the better. If LordElmscott and Mr. Cliffe will arrange the details, I am entirely atyour service."
With that he set his hat carelessly on his head, and sauntered out ofthe room. Mr. Cliffe looked at me in surprise.
"It is an old-standing quarrel between Mr. Buckler and your friend,"Elmscott explained, "but certain matters, of which we need not speak,have brought it to a head. Your friend would fain have deferred thesettlement for another week, but Mr. Buckler's engagements forbade thedelay."
So far he had got when a suspicion flashed into my head. LeavingElmscott to arrange the encounter with Mr. Cliffe, I hurried down thepassage and out on to the road. On neither side was Marston to beseen, but I perceived that the stable door stood open. I lookedquickly to the priming of my pistol--for, knowing that the Great WestRoad was infested by footpads and highwaymen, we had armed ourselveswith some care before leaving London--and took my station in themiddle of the way. Another minute and I should have been too late; forMarston dashed out of the stable door, already mounted upon his horse.He drove his spurs into its flanks, and rode straight at me. I hadjust time to leap on one side. His riding-whip slashed across my face,I heard him laugh with a triumphant mockery, and then I fired. Thehorse bounded into the air with a scream of pain, sank on itshaunches, and rolled over on its side.
The noise of the shot brought our seconds to the door.
"Your friend seems in need of assistance," said Elmscott. For Marstonlay on the road struggling to free himself from the weight of thehorse. Cliffe loosened the saddle and helped Marston to his feet. Thenhe drew aside and stood silent, looking at his companion with aquestioning disdain. Marston returned the look with a proudindifference, which, in spite of myself, I could not but admire.
"There was more courage than cowardice in the act," said I, "to thosewho understand it."
"I can do without your approbation," said Marston, flushing, as heturned sharply upon me. Catching sight of my face, he smiled. "Did thewhip sting?" he asked.
I unsheathed my sword, and without another word we mounted the bank onthe left side of the road and passed on to the heath.
The seconds chose a spot about a hundred yards from the highway, wherethe turf was level and smooth, and set us facing north and south, sothat neither might get advantage from the sun. The morning was veryclear and bright, with just here and there a feather of white cloud inthe blue of the sky; and our swords shone in the sunlight like dartingtongues of flame.
The encounter was of the shortest, since we were in no condition toplan or execute the combinations of a cool and subtle attack, butdrove at each other with the utmost fury. Marston wounded me in theforearm before ever I touched him. But a few seconds after that he hadpinked me, he laid his side open, and I passed my sword between hisribs. He staggered backwards, swayed for a moment to and fro in aneffort to keep his feet; his knees gave under him, and he sank downupon the heath, his fingers clasping and unclasping convulsively aboutthe pommel of his sword. Cliffe lifted him in his arms and strove tostaunch the blood, which was reddening through his shirt, whileElmscott ran to the inn and hurried off to Hungerford for a surgeon.
For awhile I stood on my ground, idly digging holes in the grass withthe point of my rapier. Then Marston called me faintly, and I droppedthe sword and went to his side. His face was white and sweaty, and thepupils of his eyes were contracted to pin-points.
I knelt down and bent my head close to his.
"So," he whispered, "luck sides with you after all. This time Ithought that I had won the vole."
He was silent for a minute or so, and then:
"I want to speak with you alone."
I took him from Cliffe's arms and supported his head upon my knee, hepressing both his hands tightly upon his side.
"Betty is afraid," he continued, with a gasp between each word, assoon as Cliffe had left us. "Betty is afraid, and her husband's afool."
The implied request, even at that moment, struck me as wonderfullycharacteristic of the man. So long as his own desires were at stake hedisregarded his sister's fears; but no sooner had all chance ofgaining them failed, than his affection for her reasserted itself, andeven drove him to the length of asking help from his chief enemy.
"I will see that no harm comes to her."
"Promise!"
I promised, somehow touched by his trust in me.
"I knew you would," he said gratefully; and then, with a smile: "I amsorry I hit you with my whip--Morrice. I could have loved you."
Again he lay silent, plucking at the grass with the fingers of hisleft hand.
"Lift me higher! There is something else."
I raised his body as gently as I could; but nevertheless the roughbandage which Cliffe had fastened over the wound became displaced withthe movement, and the blood burst out again, soaking through hisshirt.
"You spoke of a miniature----" he began, and then with a littlegasping sob he turned over in my arms, and fell forward on the grassupon his face.
I called to Cliffe, who stood with his back towards us a littledistance off, and ran to where I had laid my coat and cravat beforethe duel commenced. For the cravat was of soft muslin, and might, Ifancied, be of some use as lint. With this in my hand, I hurried back.Cliffe was lifting Marston from the ground.
"Best let him lie there quietly," I said.
He turned the body over upon its back.
"Aye!" he answered, "under God's sky."
I dropped on my knees beside the corpse, felt the pulse, laid my earto the heart. The sun shone hot and bright upon his dead face. Cliffetook a handkerchief from his pocket, and gently placed it overMarston's eyes.
"This means a year on the Continent for you, my friend," he said.
When Elmscott and the surgeon arrived some half an hour later, theyfound me eating my breakfast in the kitchen.
"Where is he?" they asked.
"Who?" said I.
I remember vaguely that the surgeon looked at me with a certainanxiety, and made a remark to Elmscott. Then they went out of the roomagain. How long it was before they returned I have no notion. Elmscottbrought in my coat, hat, and sword, and I got up to put them on; butthe doctor checked him, and setting me again in my chair, bound up myarm, not without some resistance from me, for I saw that his handswere dabbled with Marston's blood.
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"Now," said he to Elmscott, "if you will help, we will get himupstairs to bed."
"No!" said I, suddenly recollecting all that had occurred. "I madeMarston a promise. I must keep it! I must ride to town and keep it!"
"It will be the best way, if he can," said Elmscott. "He will be takenhere for a surety. I have sent a messenger to Bristol with the news."
The surgeon eased my arm into the sleeve of my coat, and made a slingabout my shoulders with my cravat. Elmscott buckled on my sword andled me to the stables, leaving me outside while he went in and saddleda horse.
"This is Cliffe's horse," said he; "yours is too tired. I will explainto him."
He held the horse while I climbed into the saddle.
"Now, Morrice," he said, "you have no time to lose. You have got thestart of the law; keep it. Marston's family is of some power andweight. As soon as his death is known, there will be a hue and cryafter you; so fly the country. I would say leave the promiseunfulfilled, but that it were waste of breath. Fly the country as soonas you may, unless you have a mind for twelve months in Newgate gaol.I will follow you to town with all speed, but for your own sake 'twerebest I find you gone."
He moved aside, and I galloped off towards Newberry. The misery ofthat ride I could not, if I would, describe. The pain of my wound, theutter weariness and dejection which came upon me as a reaction fromthe excitement of the last days, and the knowledge that I could nolonger shirk my confession, so combined to weaken and distress me,that I had much ado to keep my seat in the saddle. 'Twas late in theevening when I rode up to Ilga's lodging. The door, by some chance,stood open, and without bethinking me to summon the servants, I walkedstraight up the staircase to the parlour, dragging myself from onestep to the other by the help of the balustrade. The parlour door wasshut, and I could not lay my fingers on the handle, but scratchedblindly up and down the panels in an effort to find it. At last someone opened the door from within, and I staggered into the room. Mdlle.Durette--for it was she--set up a little scream, and then in theembrasure of the window I saw the Countess rise slowly to her feet.The last light of the day fell grey and wan across her face and hair.I saw her as through a mist, and she seemed to me more than ordinarilytall. I stumbled across the room, my limbs growing heavier everymoment.
"Countess," I began, "I have a promise to fulfil. Lady Tracy----"There I stopped. The room commenced to swim round me. "Lady Tracy----"I repeated.
The Countess stood motionless as a statue, dumb as a statue. Yet in astrange way she appeared suddenly to come near and increase instature--suddenly to dwindle and diminish.
"Ilga," I cried, stretching out my hands to her. She made no movement.I felt my legs bend beneath me, as if the bones of them were dissolvedto water, and I sank heavily upon my knees. "Ilga," I cried again, butvery faintly. She stirred not so much as a muscle to help me, and Ifell forward swooning, with my head upon her feet.