CHAPTER XVIII.
HOW HARRY GOT RELEASED.
"He is now," said Dr. Powlett, returning to the lodge where I awaitedhim, "safely chained up in a strait-waistcoat. A strong younggentleman, indeed, and took four of my fellows to reduce him. Almost apity," he went on, thinking of the case from a professional point ofview, "that so valiant a fellow is in his right mind."
"Doctor, what may that mean?"
"Nay, I was but thinking--a physician must needs consider thesethings--that a county gentleman, with so great an estate, would beindeed a windfall in such an establishment as mine."
"Why, doctor, would you have all the world mad?"
"They are already," he replied; "as mad as March hares--all of them. Iwould only have them in establishments, with strait-waistcoats on, andan experienced and humane physician to reduce them by means of--thosemeasures which are never known to fail."
"I hope," I said seriously, because I began to fear that some violencemight have been used, "that my poor friend has been treated gently."
"We never," replied the doctor, "treat them otherwise than gently. Myfellows understand that this--ahem!--unfortunate escaped sufferer fromlunacy or dementia (because I have not yet had time to diagnose hiscase with precision) is to be treated with singular forbearance. One ortwo cuffs on the head, an admonition by means of a keeper's boot, hehath doubtless received. These things are absolutely necessary: but nocollar-bones put out or ribs broken. In the case of violent patients,ribs, as a rule, do get broken, and give trouble in the setting. Yourfriend, young lady, has all his bones whole. No discipline, so far,has been administered beyond a few buckets of water, which it wasabsolutely necessary to pour over his head, out of common humanity, andin order to calm the excessive rage into which the poor gentleman fell.He is quite calm now, and has neither been put under the pump nor inthe tank. I have expressly ordered that there is to be no cudgelling.And I have promised my fellows half-a-guinea apiece"--here he lookedat me with a meaning smile--"if they are gentle with him. I have toldthem that there is a young lady interested in his welfare. My keepers,I assure you, madam, have rough work to do, but they are the mosttender-hearted of men. Otherwise, they would be sent packing. And atthe sight of half-a-guinea, their hearts yearn with affection towardsthe patients."
I smiled, and promised the half-guineas on the liberation ofthe prisoner. Cuffs and kicks! a few buckets of cold water! astrait-waistcoat! My poor Harry! surely this would be enough to cureany man of his passion. And what a fitting end to a journey commencedwith the intention of killing and murdering your old playfellow'slover! Yet, to be sure, it was a wicked thing I had done, and Iresolved to lose no time (as soon as there was no longer any fear of aduel) in beginning to repent.
* * * * *
All this accomplished, which was, after all, only a beginning, I leftthe house and walked up the hill, intending to find the three gentlemenwaiting for their duel. These meetings generally took place, I knew,on the way to the old well. I left Durdans on the right, and struckacross the turf to the left. Presently I saw before me a group ofthree gentlemen, standing together and talking. That is to say, twowere talking, and one, Lord Chudleigh, was standing apart. They saw mepresently, and I heard Sir Miles, in his loud and hearty voice, cryingout: "Gad so! It is pretty Kitty herself."
"You look, gentlemen," I said, "as if you were expecting quite anotherperson. But pray, Sir Miles, why on the Downs so early? There is norace to-day, nor any bull-baiting. The card-room is open, and I believethe inns are not shut."
"We are here," he replied, unblushingly, "to take the air. It isbracing: it is good for the complexion: it expands the chest and opensthe breathing pipes: it is as good as a draught of the waters: and asstimulating as a bottle of port."
"Indeed! Then I am surprised you do not use the fresh air oftener. Forsurely it is cheaper than drinking wine."
"In future," he said, "I intend to do so."
"But why these swords, Sir Miles? You know the rule of the Wells."
"They wanted sharpening," he replied. "The air of the Downs is so keen,that it sets an edge on sword-blades."
"You looked--fie, gentlemen!--for Mr. Temple to help sharpen theblades, as a butcher sharpens his knife, by putting steel to steel. SirMiles, you are a wicked and bloodthirsty man."
He laughed, and so did the officer. Lord Chudleigh changed colour.
"Gentlemen," I went on, "I have to tell you--I have come here to tellyou--that an accident has happened to Mr. Temple, which will preventhis keeping the appointment made for him at this hour. I am sure, ifhe knew that I was coming here, he would ask me to express his greatregret at keeping you waiting. Now, however, you may all go home again,and put off killing each other for another day."
They looked at each other, astonished.
"My lord," I said, "I am sure you will let me ask you what injury mypoor friend Harry Temple has done you that you desire to compass hisdeath."
"Nay," he replied, "I desire not to compass any man's death. I am hereagainst my will. I have no quarrel with him."
"What do you say, Sir Miles?" I asked. "Are you determined that bloodshould be spilt?"
"Not I," he replied. "But as the affair concerns the honour of twogentlemen, I think, with respect to so fair a lady, that it had betterbe left in the hands of gentlemen."
"But," I said, "it concerns me too now, partly because I have broughtyou the reason of Mr. Temple's absence, and partly because he is one ofmy oldest friends and a gentleman for whom I have a very great regard.And methinks, Sir Miles, with submission, because a woman cannotunderstand the laws of the duello or the scruples of what gentlemencall honour--that honour which allows a man to drink and gamble, butnot to take a hasty word, that if I can persuade Lord Chudleigh thatMr. Temple does not desire the duel, and is unfeignedly ashamed ofhimself, and if I can assure Mr. Temple that Lord Chudleigh would notbe any the happier for killing Mr. Temple, why then this dreadfulencounter need not take place, and we may all go home again in peace."
Upon this they looked at each other doubtfully, and Sir Miles burstout laughing. When Sir Miles laughed I thought it would all end wellat once. But then Harry's second spoke up gravely, and threatened totrouble the waters.
"I represent Mr. Temple in this affair. I cannot allow my principal toleave the field without satisfaction. We have been insulted. We demandreparation to our honour. We cannot be set aside in this unbecomingmanner by a young lady."
"Pray, sir," I asked, "does your scarlet coat and your commission"--Ihave said he was an officer--"enjoin you to set folks by the ears,and to promote that method of murder which men call duelling? Whatadvantage will it be to you, provided these two gentlemen fight andkill each other?"
"Why, as for advantage--none," he said. "But who ever heard----"
"Then, sir, as it will be of infinite advantage to many of theirfriends, and a subject of great joy and thankfulness that they shouldnot fight, be pleased not to embroil matters further. And, indeed, sir,I am quite sure that you have breathed the bracing air of the Downsquite long enough, and had better leave us here, and go back to thetown. You may else want me to fight in the place of Mr. Temple. Thatwould be a fine way of getting reparation to your wounded honour."
At this he became very red in the face, and spoke more about honour,laws among gentlemen, and fooling away his time among people who, itseemed, either did not know their own minds, or contrived accidents tohappen in the nick of time.
"Hark ye, brother," said Sir Miles upon this, "the young lady isright in her way, because, say what we will, our men were going outon a fool's errand. Why, in the devil's name, should they fight? Whatoccasion has Mr. Temple to quarrel with my lord?"
"If Mr. Temple likes...." said his second, shrugging his shoulders."After all it is his business, not mine. If, in the army, a man pullsanother man's nose, why----"
"Will you please to understand, sir," I broke in, "that Mr. Templeis really delayed by an accident--it happened to him on
his way here,and was entirely unforeseen by him, and was one which he could neitherprevent nor expect? If a woman had any honour, in your sense, I wouldgive you my word of honour that this is so."
"Under these circumstances," the gallant officer said, "I do not seewhy we are waiting here. Mr. Temple will, of course, tell his ownstory in his own way, and unless the fight takes place on the originalquarrel, why, he may find another second. Such a lame ending I neverexperienced."
"And that," interposed Sir Miles, who surely was the most good-naturedof men, "that reminds me, my good sir, that in this matter, unless wewould make bad worse, we all of us had better make up our minds to tellno story at all, but leave it to Mr. Temple. Wherefore, if it pleaseyou, I will walk to the town in your company, there to contradict anyidle gossip we may hear, and to lay upon the back of the rightfulperson, either with cudgels or rapiers, any calumny which may beattached to Mr. Temple's name. But, no doubt, he is strong enough todefend himself."
"Really, Sir Miles," said the officer with a sneer, "I wonder you donot fight for him yourself. Here is your principal, Lord Chudleigh,ready for you."
"Sir, he is not my friend, but the friend of Miss Pleydell. He is, asI believe you or any other person who may quarrel with him would find,perfectly well able to fight his own battles. Meantime I am ready tofight my own, as is already pretty well known."
With that they both walked off the field, not together, but near eachother, the officer in a great huff and Sir Miles rolling along besidehim, big and good-tempered, yet, like a bull-dog, an ugly dog to tackle.
Lord Chudleigh and I were left alone upon the Downs.
"Kitty," he cried, "what does this mean?"
"That there is to be no fighting between you and Harry Temple. That iswhat it means, my lord. Oh, the wickedness of men!"
"But where is he? what is the accident? What does your presence mean?Did he send you?"
I laughed, but could not tell him. Then I reflected that the errand onwhich he had come was no laughing matter, and I became grave again.
"My lord," I said, "is it well to tell a girl one day that you loveher, and the next to come out to fight with swords about a trifle? Doyou think nothing of a broken heart?"
"My dear," he replied, "it was forced upon me, believe me. A man mustfight if he is insulted openly. There is no help for it till customschange."
"Oh!" I cried; "can that man be in his senses who hopes to win awoman's heart by insulting and trying to kill--her--her lover?"
"Yes, Kitty." He caught my hand and kissed it. "Your lover--your mostunhappy lover! who can do no more than say he loves you, and yet cannever hope to marry you. How did I dare to open my heart to you, mydear, with such a shameful story to tell?"
"My lord," I said, "promise me, if you sincerely love me, which Icannot doubt, not to fight with this hot-headed young man."
"I promise," he replied, "to do all that a man of honour may, in orderto avoid a duel with him."
"Then, my lord, I promise, once more in return--if you would care tohave such a promise from so poor a creature as myself----"
"Kitty! Divine angel!"
"I swear, even though you never wed me, to remain single for your sake.And even should you change your mind, and bestow your affections uponanother woman, and scorn and loathe me, never to think upon anotherman."
He seized me in his arms, though we were on the open Downs (only therewas not a soul within sight, so far as I could see around), and kissedme on the cheeks and lips.
"My love!" he murmured; "my sweet and gracious lady!"
* * * * *
Next, I had to consider what best to do about my prisoner. I begged mylord to go home through the Durdans, while I returned by the road. Onthe way I resolved to liberate Harry at once, but to make conditionswith him. I therefore returned to the doctor's, and asked that I mightbe allowed to see the prisoner.
Dr. Powlett was at first very unwilling. He pointed out, with somejustice, that there had not, as yet, been time enough to allow of acolourable pretence at discovering the supposed mistake; a few days,say a fortnight, should elapse, during which the search might besupposed to be a-making; in that interval Harry was to sit chained inhis cell, with a strait-waistcoat on.
"And believe me," said this kind physician, "he will learn from hisimprisonment to admire the many kindnesses and great humanity shown tounhappy persons who are afflicted with the loss of their wits. Besidesthis, he will have an opportunity of discovering for what moderatecharges such persons are received, entertained, and treated with thehighest medical skill, at Epsom, by the learned physician, JonathanPowlett, _Medicinae Doctor_. He will swallow my pills, drink my potions(which are sovereign in all diseases of the brain), be nourished onmy gruel (compounded scientifically with the Epsom water), will betenderly handled by my keepers, and all for the low charge of fourguineas a week, paid in advance, including servants. And he will, whencured (if Providence assist), come out----"
"Twice as mad as he went in. No, doctor; that, if you please, was notwhat I intended. The mischief is averted for the present, and, if youwill conduct me to your prisoner, I think I can manage to avert italtogether."
Well, finding that there was nothing more to be got out of the case--Iam quite sure that he was ready to treat poor Harry as really mad, andto keep him there as long as any money could be got out of him--thedoctor gave way, and led me to the room in which lay prisoner Harry.
It was a room apart from the great common rooms in which idiots andimbecile persons are chained at regular intervals to the wall, neverleaving their places, night or day, until they die. I was thus sparedthe pain of seeing what I am told is one of the most truly awful andterrifying spectacles in the world. The doctor, who measured hiskindness by the guineas which he could extract from his patients'friends, kept certain private chambers, where, if the poor creatureswere chained, they were not exposed to the sights and sounds of thecommon rooms.
In one of these, therefore, he had bestowed Harry.
"Let me," I said, "go in first, and speak with him. Do you comepresently."
I think if I had known, beforehand, what they were going to do, I mighthave relented--but no: anything was better than that those two menshould stand, sword in hand, face to face, trying to kill each otherfor the sake of an unworthy girl.
Yet the poor lad, whom I had ever loved like a brother, looked inpiteous case; for they had put the strait-waistcoat over him, whichpinned his arms to his sides, and a chain about his waist which wasfastened to the wall behind him; his wig was lying on the floor; heseemed wet through, which was the natural effect of those savagekeepers' buckets; his face wore a look of rage and despair sad tobehold: his eyes glared like the eyes of a bull at a baiting.
"You here, Kitty?" he cried. "You? What is the meaning of you in thishouse?"
"Harry, there has been, it seems a very terrible blunder committedby Dr. Powlett's servants; they were told you were a certain escapedmadman, and they arrested you in the discharge of their duty. It ismost fortunate that the fact has been brought to my ears, because Icould hasten----"
"Then quick, Kitty, quick!" he cried. "Go, call the doctor, and set mefree. It may not yet be too late. Quick, Kitty! They are waiting forme."
He forgot, I suppose, what this "waiting" might mean to me.
"Who are waiting, Harry?"
He did not reply.
"What were you going to do on the Downs this morning, Harry, when theymade a prisoner of you?"
"That is nothing to do with you," he replied. "Go, call the rascallydoctor, whose ribs I will break, and his men, whom I will murder, forthis job."
"Nothing to do with me, Harry! Are you quite sure?"
"You look, Kitty, as if you knew. Did Lord Chud----No; he would not.Did Sir Miles go sneaking to you with the news? Gad! I feel inclined totry conclusions with the Norfolk baronet with his cudgel about which hemakes such a coil."
"Never mind who told me. I know the whole wicked, disgraceful,mur
derous story!"
"Disgraceful! You talk like a woman. Shall a man sit down idly, and seehis wife snatched out of his arms?"
"What wife? O Harry! you have gone mad about this business. Cannot youunderstand that I was never engaged to marry you--that I never thoughtof such a thing? I could never have been your wife, whether there wasany rival or no. And did you think that you would make me think themore kindly of you, should you kill the man who, as you foolishlythink, had supplanted you? Or was it out of revenge, and in the hope ofmaking me miserable, that you designed to fight this duel?"
He was silent at this. When a man is in a strait-waistcoat, and chainedto a wall, it is difficult to look dignified. But Harry's look of shameand confusion, under the circumstances of having no arms, was trulypitiful.
"You can talk about that afterwards," he said doggedly. "Go, call thescoundrel doctor."
"Presently. I want to tell you, first, what I think about it. Was itkind to the woman you pretended to love to bring upon her the risk ofthis great unhappiness? Remember, Harry, I told you all. I told youwhat I could not have told even to Nancy, in the hope of breaking youof this mad passion. I trusted that you were good and true of heart;and this is the return."
"It is done now," he replied gloomily. "Do not reproach me, Kitty. LetLord Chudleigh run me through the body, and so an end. Now, fetch thedoctor fellow and his men."
"That would have been indeed an end," I said. "But, Harry, I have donebetter than that for you. I have stayed the duel altogether. You willnot have to fight."
With that I told him how I had gone to the Downs, and what I had saidto the gentlemen. Only, be sure that I left out what passed in the roadbetween his lordship and myself.
Well, Master Harry flew into a mighty rage upon hearing this, and,being still in the strait-waistcoat and in chains, his wrath wasincreased because he could not move: he talked wildly about his injuredhonour, swore that he would go and offer Lord Chudleigh first, and SirMiles later, such an open and public affront as must be washed out withthe blood of one; declared that I might have destroyed his reputationfor courage for good, but that he was resolved the world should judgeto the contrary. As for the company at the Wells, he would challengeevery man at Epsom, if necessary, if he should dare to asperse hisbravery. More he said to the same effect, but I interrupted him.
First, I promised to go with him upon the Terrace, there to meet thepeople and give him such countenance as a woman could. Next I promisedhim that Lord Chudleigh should meet him in a friendly spirit; that SirMiles should be the first to proclaim Mr. Temple's courage. I assuredhim that he might be quite certain of finding many other opportunitiesof proving his valiancy, should he continue in his present bloodthirstyframe of mind. I congratulated him on his Christian readiness to throwaway a life which had hitherto been surrounded by so many blessings.Lastly, I advised him to consider how far his present attitude andsentiments corresponded with the divine philosophy of the ancients,whom he had once been so fond of quoting.
He refused to make any promise whatever.
Then I bade him remember--first, where he was; second, under whatcircumstances he came there; third, that he was surrounded by ravingmadmen, chained to the wall as one of them, put in a strait-waistcoatlike one of them, and about to be reduced to a diet of bread andwater; that no one knew where he was except myself and Dr. Powlett;that neither of us would tell anything about him; and that, in pointof fact, unless he promised what I asked, he might remain where he wasuntil all danger was past.
"And that, Harry, may be I know not when. For be very well assuredthat, as I have obtained from Lord Chudleigh a promise to seek noquarrel with you, I will not let you go from this place until I amassured that you will seek no quarrel with him, either on my account orunder any other pretext whatever. You are in great misery (which yourichly deserve for your wicked and murderous design); you are wet andhungry: if I go away without your promise, you will continue in greatermisery until I return. Bethink thee, Harry."
Still he was obdurate. Strange that a man will face almost anythingrather than possible ridicule.
What, after long persuasion, made him give way, was a plain threat thatif he would not promise what I required I would release him at once,but tell his story to all the town, so that, for very ridicule's sake,it would be impossible for the duel to take place.
"It will tell very prettily, Harry," I said. "Nancy will dress it upfor me, and will relate it in her best and liveliest way; how you triedto get a little country girl of sixteen to engage herself to you; how,when you found her a year later turned into a lady, you thought thatyou could terrify her into accepting your proposals, on the plea thatshe had already promised; how you turned sulky; how you quarrelledwith Lord Chudleigh, and made him accept your duel; how you were takenprisoner by mistake, and kicked, cuffed----"
"I was not kicked!" he cried.
"You were. Dr. Powlett's patients are always kicked. Then youhad buckets of cold water thrown over you; you were put into astrait-waistcoat and chained to the wall: while I came and asked youwhether you preferred remaining in the madhouse or promising to behavelike an honourable gentleman, and abstain from insulting persons whohave done no harm to you or yours."
"I believe," he said, "that it is none other than yourself who has hadme captured and treated in this manner, _femina furens_!"
"A mere mistake, Harry," I replied, "of this good physician's zealousservants. Why, it might have happened in any such establishment. Butfor me to order it--oh! impossible--though, when one comes to thinkof it, there are few things a woman--_Femina furens_, the English ofwhich, Master Harry, I know--would not do to save two friends fromhacking and slashing each other."
Upon this he gave way.
"I must," he said, "get away from this place with what speed I may,even if I have to pink half the men in Epsom to prove I am no coward.Kitty, call the doctor. I believe, mad nymph, thou hast a devil!"
"Nay, Harry, all this was planned but to lay the devil, believe me. Butpromise first."
"Well, then. It is a hard pill to swallow, Kitty."
"Promise."
"I promise."
"Not to pick any quarrel, or to revive any old quarrel, with LordChudleigh or Sir Miles Lackington."
He repeated the words after me.
"And to remain good friends with Kitty Pleydell and all who are herfriends and followers."
He repeated these words as well, though with some appearance ofswallowing distasteful food.
"I cannot shake hands with you, Harry, because, poor boy, your handsare hidden away beneath that strait-waistcoat. But I know you to bean honourable gentleman, as becomes a man of your birth and so greata scholar, and I accept your word. Wherefore, my dear old friend andschoolfellow, seeing that there is to be no more pretence of lovebetween us, but only of friendship and good wishes, I will call--Dr.Powlett."
That good man was waiting in the corridor or passage while Harry and Iheld this long conversation. He came as soon as I called him.
"Sir," said I, as soon as he came in (I noticed that he lookedanxiously behind him to see that his four varlets were at hand, readyto defend him if necessary)--"Sir, here is a most grievous mischanceindeed. For this gentleman is no other than Mr. Harry Temple, Justiceof the Peace, Bachelor of Arts of the University of Cambridge, FellowCommoner of his College, Member of the Honourable Society of Lincoln'sInn, and a country gentleman, with a great estate of East Kent. He is,in truth, doctor, no more mad than you or I, or any one else in theworld."
The doctor affected the greatest surprise and indignation. First heexpressed his inability to believe my statement, although it painedhim deeply to differ from a lady; then he called upon one of hismen to bring him the _Hue and Cry_, and read out a description of arunaway madman which so perfectly answered the appearance of Harry,that it would deceive any one, except myself, because I was sure he hadhimself written it--_after the capture_. He then asked me, solemnly andgravely, if I did not think, having heard the description, that
the menwere justified in their action.
I replied that the paper so exactly tallied with Harry's appearancethat such a mistake was most easy to account for, and must at once,when explained, command forgiveness. Nevertheless, Harry's face lookedfar from forgiving.
"Varlets," said Dr. Powlett, who in some respects reminded me of acertain Doctor of Divinity, because his voice was deep and his mannerstately, "go, instantly, every man Jack, upon his bended knees and askthe pardon of Mr. Temple for an offence committed by pure inadvertenceand excess of honourable zeal in the extirpation--I mean thecomfortable and kindly confinement--of the lunatic, insane, and personsdemented."
They all four fell upon their knees and asked forgiveness.
Harry replied briefly, that as for pardoning them, he would wait untilhe was free, when he would break all their ribs and wring their necks.
"Sir," said the doctor, "you are doubtless in the right, and arenaturally, for the moment, annoyed at this little misadventure, atwhich you will laugh when you consider it at leisure. It will perhapsbe of use to you as showing you on what humane, kindly, and gentle asystem such establishments as ours are conducted. As regards the pardonwhich you will extend to these honest fellows, time is no object tothem. They would as soon receive their pardon to-morrow, or a weekhence, or a year, or twenty years hence, as to-day, because theirconsciences are at rest, having done their duty; therefore, good sir,they will wait to release you until you are ready with their pardon."
Harry, after thinking for a few moments over this statement, said, thatso far as he was concerned, the four men might go to the devil, andthat he pardoned them.
"There remains only," said the doctor, "one person who infinitelyregrets the temporary annoyance your honour has been subjected to.It is myself. I have to ask of you, for the sake of my establishmentand my reputation, two or three conditions. The first of them isyour forgiveness, without which I feel that my self-respect as atrue Christian and man of science would suffer; the second, absolutesecrecy as regards these proceedings, a knowledge of which might beprejudicial to me; and the third----" here he hesitated and glancedsideways at me. "The third is, of course"--he plucked up courage andspoke confidently--"a reimbursement of the expenses I have been putto, as, for instance"--here he drew out a long roll, and read fromit--"services of four men in watching for the escaped lunatic for fivehours, at five shillings an hour for each man, five pounds; to thecapture of the same, being done in expeditious and workmanlike fashion,without confusion, scandal, cracking of crowns or breaking of ribs,two guineas; to bringing him in, and receiving many cuffs, blows,kicks, &c., on the way, three guineas; to use of private room for onemonth at one guinea a week (we never let our private and comfortablechambers for less than one month), four guineas; to wear and tear ofbucket, strait-waistcoat, and chain, used in confining and bringing toreason the prisoner, two guineas; to board and lodging of the patientfor one month at two guineas a week (we never receive a patient forless than one month), eight guineas; to attendants' fees for the sametime, two guineas for entrance and three guineas for departure: to myown professional attendance at two guineas a week (I never undertake acase for less than one month certain), eight guineas. The total, goodsir, I find to amount to a mere trifle of thirty-eight pounds twelveshillings."
Heavens! did one ever hear of such an extortionate charge? And all fortwo hours in a strait-waistcoat!
Harry stormed and swore. But the most he could get was a reduction ofthe bill by which certain items, including the three guineas for givingand receiving kicks and cuffs, and the two guineas for wear and tearof the bucket which had been emptied over him, were to be remitted.Finally he accepted the conditions, with the promise to pay thirtyguineas in full discharge. And really I think that Dr. Powlett had donea good morning's work, having taken ten guineas out of me and thirtyout of Harry. But then, as he said, it was a delicate and dangerousbusiness, and might, in less skilful hands (meaning perhaps mine,perhaps his own), have led to very awkward results.
The Terrace was full of people, for it was now half-past twelve. AsHarry and I made our way slowly under the trees they parted for usleft and right, staring at us as we passed them with curious eyes.For the rumour had spread abroad that there was to have been a duelthat morning between Lord Chudleigh and Mr. Temple, and that it wasstopped--no one knew how--by some accident which prevented Mr. Templefrom keeping his appointment. Now at the other end of the Terrace wemet Lord Chudleigh himself, who, after saluting me, held out his handbefore all the world to Harry, who took it with a bow and a blush.
There was a great sigh of disappointment. No duel, then, would befought at all, and the two gentlemen who were to have fought it wereshaking hands like ordinary mortals, and the lady for whom they weregoing to fight was walking between them, and all three were smiling andtalking together like excellent friends.
Thus, then, did I heal up the quarrel between Harry Temple and my lord.It would have grieved me sore had poor Harry, almost my brother, beenwounded or killed; but what would have been my lot had my lover fallen?
Three suitors had I rejected in a month, and a lover had I gained, whowas also, though this I never ventured to confess, my husband. Butthere was one man whom I had forgotten quite, and he was destined tobe the cause of the greatest trouble of all. Who would have believedthat Will Levett would have dared to call himself my accepted lover?Who would have believed that this sot, this stable and kennel haunter,would have remembered me for a whole year, and would have come to Epsomin the full confidence that he was coming to claim a bride?
The Chaplain of the Fleet Page 34
