CHAPTER SEVEN
_Which deals, among other Matters, with the Ring of Steel_
My anger toward Bentley, sudden though it may appear, was scarcely theoutcome of the moment. I could not but call to mind the thousand littlethings he had both done and said during the past weeks that demonstratedthe strange indifference he had shown toward the whole affair. Thus, asthe day advanced, my feeling against him grew but the more intense.Looking back on it now, I am inclined to put this down partly to thereason already stated, partly to lack of sleep, and partly to thecarking care that had gnawed at my heart all these weeks--though evennow I am inclined to think that his conduct, as I then viewed it,justified my resentment.
I noticed as the day advanced that he seemed to be labouring under somestrong excitement, and more than once he manifested a desire to speakwith me aside, but I took good care to give him no opportunity. Atlength, however, Jack chancing to be out of the room for a moment, heseized me by the arm ere I could escape him.
"Dick--" he began.
"Sir!" I cut in, shaking myself free of him, "whatever explanation youmay have to offer for your strange, and--yes, sir--utterly heartlessconduct of late, I beg that you will let it stand until this mostunhappy affair is over--I'm in no mood for it now." He fell back fromme, staring as one utterly bewildered for a moment, then he smiled.
"If you will but listen, Dick--"
"Sir," says I, drawing away from him, "I have asked no explanation atyour hands, and desire none--the callousness which you have shown sopersistently of late has utterly broken down and severed once and forall whatever feeling of friendship I may have entertained for youhitherto."
"You don't mean it--you can never mean it," says he, stretching out aneager hand towards me. "Dick, do but listen--"
"Mean it, sir!" I repeated, "I tell you it is but the memory of thatdead friendship which stays me from calling upon you to account to mewith your sword."
"But," he stammered, "you--you would never--you could never--"
"Enough, sir," says I, "I have no desire for further speech withyou--save that it would be well at least to keep up an appearance of theold relationship, until this affair is over and done with."
"Why, Dick!" says he, his lips twitching strangely, "why--Dick!" andwith the word he turned suddenly and left me.
The duel had been settled for twelve o'clock, and it was exactly halfafter eleven by my chronometer when a servant came to warn us that thecoach was at the door. So we presently descended and got in with nevera word betwixt us. When men know each other so thoroughly, there is noneed for the mask of gaiety to be held up as is usual at such times;thus we rode very silent and thoughtful for the most part, until weheard Purdy, the surgeon, hailing us from where he stood waiting at thecross roads as had been arranged.
"Well, sirs," says he, nodding and frowning at us in his sharp way as hetook his seat, "and how is the foot?"
"Right as a trivet!" says Jack.
"I question that," says Purdy, dogmatically; "that tendon cannot be wellfor a full month yet--curse me if it can! They tell me," he went on,"that the other side has young Prothero--gentlemen, mark mywords!--Prothero's a stark, staring fool--a positive ass!--A man breakshis leg--'Give him a clyster!' says Prothero. A child hasteething-rash!--'A clyster! a clyster!' cries Prothero. A boy has thecollywobbles or mumps--'A clyster!' says Prothero. Mark me, gentlemen,should Sir John here pink his man, depend upon it Prothero will finishhim with a clyster!"
This journey, which I had made a thousand times and more, never seemedso short as it did upon this Christmas morning, yet I for oneexperienced a feeling akin to relief as we were ushered into the sandedparlour of "The Chequers."
We found Raikes arrived before us, seated at a table with Hammersley,Finch, and four or five others whose faces were familiar, and aheathenish uproar they were making. Upon our entrance they fell silent,however, and exchanged bows with us ere we sat down.
If the episode of the shirt was not forgot, 'twas at least accounted bymost the wiser policy to let it so appear, though all Tonbridge--nay,all the country round--rung with the story behind Sir Harry's back, andindeed (as I well know) 'tis laughed over by many to this day.
And now being here, and noting the cleared floor and the otherpreparations for what was to follow, and looking at Jack beside me sofull of strength and life, and bethinking me of what he might be so verysoon, a deadly nausea came upon me, such as I had never felt before onsuch occasions, so that I was forced to sit down.
"Nay, Dick," says Jack, shaking his head, "I have no mind to wait; getit over for me as soon as may be."
"No, no," says Bentley, sharply, "at least let us have a bottle of winefirst," and on this point he was so insistent that Jack was ultimatelyforced to give in to him, though even then Bentley seemed ill-content,for he fell to fidgetting awkwardly in his chair, and compared hischronometer with the clock full a dozen times in as many minutes.
The crowd at the other table grew uproarious again, and more than once Iheard the Captain's high-pitched laugh.
"Bentley," says I, "'tis past twelve o'clock."
"Yes," says he, and began straightway upon "Lillibuleero."
Jack started and looked up.
"Come, Dick, let us begin at once."
"The wine's not all out yet," says Bentley, with his eyes upon the clockagain; and now I noticed for the first time that his cheeks were devoidof all colour and his face seemed strangely peaked and haggard.
At this moment, Jack rising, I had perforce to do the same, seeing whichthe party at the other table ceased their uproar of a sudden and a deepsilence fell as Captain Hammersley advanced to meet me, and havingbowed, spun a coin in the air to decide choice of ground.
"Jack," says I, as I rejoined him, "you will fight with your back tothe door, though there is little difference save that the wall is atrifle lighter there, and will make you less conspicuous."
Jack nodded, and with Bentley's aid, began removing his coat andwaistcoat.
"Dick," says Bentley, in my ear, speaking in a strange, uneven voice,such as I had never heard from his lips before, while Jack busiedhimself untying his cravat--"Dick, they must not--shall not fight," andI saw that the sweat stood out in great drops upon his brow.
"In God's name, Bentley, what's to stop them now?" says I, whereupon heturned away with a strange wringing motion of his hands, and seeing howthose hands trembled, I became aware that mine were doing the same.
"Be so good as to take your ground, gentlemen," said Captain Hammersley,advancing with the small-swords beneath his arm. Jack stepped forward atonce, followed a moment later by Raikes. Each in turn took his weapon,saluted, and fell to his guard.
I was just holding the crossed blades and Hammersley had scarce begunthe count, when there arose a sudden clamour without, the door was flungopen, and Mr. Tawnish stood bowing upon the threshold.
"Ah!" says he, tripping forward daintily, in one hand his handkerchief,while with the other he gracefully waved his laced hat, "an affair ofhonour, I perceive. On my soul now, it gives me real pain to intrudemyself thus--it desolates me, positively it does--but, gentlemen, thiscannot go on."
"Cannot go on--the devil, sir!" broke in the Captain loudly, "and whosays so?"
"I say so, sir," returned Mr. Tawnish, with his slow smile, "and shouldyou care to hear it, I'll say so again, sir."
"On what grounds?" says Hammersley, frowning.
"On the grounds that mine is the prior claim to the sword of Sir HarryRaikes."
"Bah!" cries Raikes, with a short laugh, "give the count, Hammersley,and we will begin."
Mr. Tawnish closed and fobbed his snuff-box.
"I think not, sir," says he, very quietly.
"Mr. Tawnish," says Jack, "I have waited over a month to fight thisgentleman."
"Sir John," says Tawnish, bowing, "your pardon, but I have waited evenlonger--"
"Whatever quarrel you may have with me, sir," Raikes
broke in, "shallwait my time and pleasure."
"I think not," says Mr. Tawnish again, his smile more engaging and hisblue eyes more dreamy than ever; "on the contrary, I have a reason herewhich I venture to hope will make you change your mind."
"A reason?" says Raikes, starting as he met the other's look. "Whatreason?"
"That!" says Mr. Tawnish, and tossed something to Sir Harry's feet.
Now as it lay there upon the sand, I saw that it was a small goldlocket. For maybe a full minute there was a dead silence, while Raikesstared down at the locket, and Mr. Tawnish took a pinch of snuff.
"Who gave you this?" says Raikes suddenly, and in a strange voice.
Mr. Tawnish flicked-to the enamelled lid of his snuff-box verydelicately with one white finger.
"I took it," says he, blandly, "from a poor devil who sat shivering inhis shirt."
"You!" says Raikes, in so low a tone as to be almost a whisper--"you?"
"I," returned Mr. Tawnish, with a bow.
"Liar!" says Raikes, in the same dangerously suppressed murmur.
"As to that," says Mr. Tawnish, shrugging his shoulders, "I will leaveyou to judge for yourself, sir."
With the words, he slipped off his wig and turned his back to us for amoment. When he fronted us again, there stood our highwayman, hisrestless eyes gleaming evilly through the slits of his half-mask, themocking smile upon his lips, the same grotesque figure beyond all doubt,despite his silks and laces.
"So, my masters," says he, in the same rough, half-jovial tone there wasno mistaking, "I says to you, maybe we should meet again, I says, andI've kept my word--such being my natur'--d'ye take me?"
There broke from Sir Harry's lips an inarticulate snarl of fury as heleaped forward, but I managed to get between them, and Bentley hadwrested the sword from his grasp in an instant.
"Damnation!" cries he, quivering with passion, "give us the swords."
"Sir," says Mr. Tawnish, bowing to the Captain, "you see, I was right,after all--the gentleman seems positively eager to oblige me."
And, having readjusted his wig, he proceeded in his leisurely fashion toremove his coat and high-heeled shoes, and to tuck up his long ruffles.
And now, all being ready, the thin, narrow blades rang together. Raikeswas too expert a swordsman to let his passion master him a second time,and as the two faced each other there was not a pin to choose betwixt'em: nay, if anything, Sir Harry would almost seem the better man, whatwith his superior height and length of limb. There was, too, a certaingleam in his eye, and a confident smile on his lips that I remembered tohave seen there the day he killed poor Richards.
He opened his attack with a thrust in _tierce_, followed by a _longe_ soswift and well timed that it came nigh ending the matter there and then,but it was parried--heaven knows how--and I heard Jack sigh behind me.
Indeed, on this occasion Sir Harry fought with all that impetuositywhich, seconded by his incredible quickness of recovery, had renderedhim famous. A very dangerous opponent he looked, with his great lengthof arm; and his face, with its menacing brow and gritted teeth, spokehis purpose more plainly than any words. Mr. Tawnish, on the other hand,preserved his usual serene composure, fencing with a certain airy gracethat seemed habitual with him in all things.
Momentarily, the fighting grew but the fiercer, Sir Harry sending inthrust after thrust, with now and then a sudden, vicious _longe_ which,it seemed, Mr. Tawnish had much ado to put aside; twice, in as manymoments, Sir Harry's point flashed over his shoulder, missing his throatby a hair, and once it rent the cambric of his sleeve from the elbow up;yet the pale serenity of his face remained unchanged, his placid calmunbroken, save, perhaps, that his eyes were a trifle wider and brighter,and his chin more than usually prominent. And still they fought, fastand furious as ever, and though Raikes came dangerously near time andtime again, his point was always met and parried.
Minutes passed that seemed hours--there were sudden pauses when we coulddetect the thud of feet and the hiss of breath drawn sharply betweenshut teeth. And now, to my amazement, I saw that Mr. Tawnish waspressing the attack, answering thrust with thrust, and _longe_ with_longe_. The fighting grew to a positive frenzy; the shivering bladesrang with their swift changes from _quarte_ to _tierce_.
"Such a pace cannot last," says I, to no one in particular, "the endmust come soon!"
Almost with the words, I saw Mr. Tawnish's blade waver aimlessly; Raikessaw it too, and drove in a lightning thrust. There was a sharp clash ofmeeting steel, a flurry of blades, and Sir Harry Raikes staggered back,his eyes wide and staring, threw up his arms, and pitching forward,rolled over with a groan.
CHAPTER EIGHT
_Wherein the Truth of the old Adage is made manifest--to wit: All's well that ends well_
So swift and altogether unexpected had been the end, that for a longminute there was a strange, tense stillness, a silence wherein all eyeswere turned from the motionless form on the floor, with theever-widening stain upon the snow of his shirt, to where Mr. Tawnishstood, leaning upon his small-sword. Then all at once pandemonium seemedto break loose--some running to lift the wounded man, some wanderinground aimlessly, but all talking excitedly, and at the same time.
"Dick and Bentley," says Jack, mopping at his face with hishandkerchief, "it's in my mind that we have made a cursed mistake foronce--the fellow is a man."
"I've known that this month and more," says I.
"I say a man," repeated Jack, "and devil anoint me, I mean a man!"
"Who writes verses!" added Bentley.
"And what of that, sir?" cries Jack, indignantly. "I did the same myselfonce--we all did."
"A patched and powdered puppy-dog!" sneers Bentley; "look at him."
Now at this, glancing across at Mr. Tawnish, I saw that he still stoodas before, only that the point of his sword was buried deep in the floorbeneath his weight, while his pale face seemed paler even than itswont. As we watched, his hand slipped suddenly from the hilt, and hetottered slightly; then I noticed for the first time that blood wasrunning down his right arm, and trickling from his finger-tips.
With an exclamation, I started forward, but Bentley's grasp was on myshoulder, and his voice whispered in my ear: "Leave him to Jack--'tisbetter so." And indeed Jack was already beside him, had flung one armabout the swaying figure, and half led, half carried him to a chair.
"Ah!" says Purdy, laying bare a great gash in the upper arm--"a littleblood, but simple--simple!" and he fell to work a-sponging andbandaging, with a running exordium upon the humanity of the sword asopposed to the more deadly bullet--until at length, the dressing inplace, Mr. Tawnish sighed and opened his eyes.
"Sir John," says he, sitting up, "give me leave to tell you that mythird and last task was accomplished this morning."
"Eh?" cries Jack, "but first, let me get you out of this."
"What of Sir Harry Raikes?" says Tawnish, rising.
"Serious," says Purdy, shaking his head, "serious, but not altogetherdangerous."
"Good!" says Jack, giving his arm to Mr. Tawnish, "I'm glad of that."
"Though," pursued Purdy, "he will be an invalid for months to come, theright lung--as I pointed out to my colleague, Prothero--a man of veryexcellent sense, by the way--"
At this juncture, at a sign from Prothero, Purdy left us with a bow.Hereupon we saluted the others, and turning into an adjacent room,called for wine and filled our glasses to Mr. Tawnish, with all thehonours.
As he rose to make his acknowledgment, for the first time in myrecollection he seemed ill at ease.
"Sir John, and gentlemen," says he, slowly, "I had scarce looked forthis kindness at your hands--it makes what I have to say harder than Ihad thought. Gentlemen," he continued, after a brief pause, "you each inturn set me an undertaking, little thinking at the time that there wasany likelihood of my fulfilling them. As you know, however, the firsttwo I accomplished some time since, and this morning I succeed
ed in thelast, namely, in taking all three of you, together and at the same time,at a disadvantage. Sir John, gentlemen--scarce an hour ago the LadyPenelope Chester became my wife."
Jack started up from the table with an oath, and fell back, staring atthe speaker with knitted brows--while Bentley gazed open-mouthed--as forme, I could do nothing but think that our Pen was gone from our keepingat last.
"By Gad, Jack, he's done us," cried Bentley, fetching the table a greatblow with his fist.
Now, as I stood with my back to them, staring out into the yard below,my eyes encountered a great, four-horsed travelling chariot, and as Iwatched it, gloomily enough, the door was flung suddenly open, and erethe waiting footman could let down the steps a lady leapt lightly outand stood looking up at the windows. All at once she turned and gazedstraight up at me--then I saw that it was Pen. With a wave of her handshe darted up the steps, and a moment later was in the room.
"Oh, I could wait no longer!" she cried, looking round with the tears inher lovely eyes, "we have been wed but an hour, and I have sat therepraying 'twixt hope and fear, until methought I should go mad."
"Father," says she, "this is my husband--and I am proudto tell you so." _Page 159._]
Here, catching sight of Tawnish with his wounded arm, she uttered a lowcry, and in a moment was kneeling beside him, kissing his uninjured hand,and fondling it with a thousand endearing terms. And seeing the infinitetenderness in his eyes and the love-light in her own, I was possessed ofa sudden, great content. In a while, remembering us, she looked up, and,though her cheeks were red, her glance met ours freely and unashamed.
"Father," says she, "this is my husband--and I am proud to tell you so."
There was a moment's silence, and Jack's frown grew the blacker.
"Father," says she again, "I am not so simple but that I found out yourquarrel with Sir Harry, and knew that you came hither to-day to meetyour death--so--so I sought aid of this noble gentleman. Yet first Ibegged of him to marry me, that if--if he had died to-day in your place,I could have mourned him as a beloved husband. Can you forgive me,father?"
As Pen ended, she rose and approached Jack with outstretched hands; fora moment longer he hesitated--then he had her in his embrace.
"And you, Uncle Bentley," says she, looking at us from Jack's arms,"and, Uncle Dick, dear, tender Uncle Dick, can you forgive your wilfulmaid?"
"God knows, my dear, there's naught to forgive," says I, "save that youare leaving us--"
"Nay, Sir Richard," cries Mr. Tawnish, "Uncle Bentley has seen tothat--"
"Uncle!" says Jack.
"Uncle!" says I.
"Can it be possible," says Mr. Tawnish, rising, "that you are stillunaware of the relationship?"
"Bentley," cries Jack, "explain."
"To be sure," says Bentley, in his heavy way, pointing to Mr. Tawnish,"this is my sister's only child, Viscount Hazelmere!"
"What!" cries Jack, while I stood dumb with astonishment.
"As you remember, Jack and Dick," says Bentley, getting ponderously tohis feet, "it was ever our wish that these two should marry, but, beingyoung and hot-headed, the very expression of that wish was but thesignal for them to set themselves to thwart it, even before they hadever seen each other. Therefore acting upon that very contrariness, Iwrote to my graceless nephew there, telling him that he need have nofear for his freedom--that we had changed our plans with regard tohim--that our Pen was a thousand times too good and sweet for such ashe--which she is, mark you!--that she was a beauty, and reigning toastof all the South Country--which she likewise is, mark you--and, in aword, forbidding him to think any more about her. Whereupon, my younggentleman comes hot-foot back to England, to learn the why andwherefore--did the mightily indignant, an' it please you--and ended byvowing he'd marry her despite all three of us. As for Pen--oh, egad! Ispun her a fine tale, I promise you--spoke of him as a poor younggentleman, penniless but proud, a man 'twould be folly for any maid towed--and oh, Jack and Dick, it worked like a charm--she saw him andpromptly fell in love with him, and he with her. Yet at this juncture,Jack, you must needs go nigh ruining all by your quarrel with Raikes;however, knowing my young rascal there plumed himself monstrously uponhis swordsmanship, I offered to put it to the test, and found him mightyeager. But oh, curse me! as I watched them preparing to murder you,Jack, a little while since, and this nephew of mine failed to come,methought I should go mad! And to think that they were marrying eachother all the time! Rat me, Dick and Jack! to-day will be the merriestChristmas of all--how say you?"
So, laughing and rejoicing together, they presently went out, and Iheard their happy voices below, ringing clear and crisp in the frostyair of the yard. But I remained, staring into the fire, bethinking me ofmy treatment of Bentley. The mystery of his seeming indifference wascleared up now; where I had failed in my design of averting Jack's duel,he had succeeded, nay, had even brought together these two, as had beenthe wish of our hearts for years past. And now I had insulted him,wantonly, beyond forgiveness. Yet we had been friends so long--perhaps,if I told him humbly--
"Dick!" said a voice behind me, and a great hand was laid upon myshoulder, "Dick!"
"Bentley," says I, hurriedly, "I was wrong--will you--can you forgive--"
"Man, Dick," says he, grasping my hand. "A Merry Christmas to thee!Come, the others are waiting you, and Pen's a-dying to kiss you, Iswear."
So he took me by the arm, and we went down-stairs together. And when Ipaused, and would have spoken further of my fool's mistake, he clappedme upon the shoulder again, and fell a-whistling of "Lillibuleero."
THE END
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