CHAPTER XXIV
THE PUNISHMENT
The postboy, foreseeing events which might require a clear stage,warily drew his chaise off the road, which here widened into a smallarea trodden flat by many feet, into the grassy field at the side, andstood at his horses' heads in readiness.
The men on the ladder, who were pulling away at the thatch with zeal,stopped their work. "What's that, George?" asked one. "Seems likehorses. They're coming after the young lady, likely;" so he slid downthe ladder followed by the other, and they ran round to the front,seizing their poles in case of need. At elections, and on the occasionof a street fight, the chairman's pole has often proved a veryefficient weapon. Handled with dexterity it is like a quarter staff,but heavier, and will not only stun a man, but will brain him, orbreak arm, leg, or ribs for him.
"For my part," Molly told me, "I saw them suddenly desist from theirwork, though in a few minutes the hole in the thatch would have beenlarge enough to admit of a man's passing through. I was waitingwithin, knife in hand. Do you think I would have suffered one of thosefellows to lay hand upon me? Well, in the midst of their work theystopped, they listened, and they stepped down the ladder. What didthis mean? There was no window to the loft except a single frame withhalf-a-dozen small diamond shaped panes too high up to serve anypurpose except to admit a little light. I put my head through the holein the thatch. And I heard--imagine my joy--the clatter of horses andthe voices of the horsemen. And then I knew, and was quite certain,that my rescue had arrived. 'Jack,' I said to myself, 'has found outthe way taken by this villain, and is riding after him.'"
Alas! I, who should have been riding in the front of all, was at thatmoment unconsciously sleeping in my bunk aboard _The Lady of Lynn_.
"I thought that at such a moment Mr. Rising would be wholly occupiedwith defending himself. I therefore withdrew the boards from the topof the stair and looked down. No one was in the room below, that Icould see. I cautiously descended. In the corner of the settle by thefireplace there was the old woman of the house.
"'They are coming after you, Missy,' she said. 'I knew how it wouldend. I warned him. I told him that everything was against it. I readhis luck by the cards and by the magpies, and by the swallows.Everything was against it. They are coming. Hark! They are very closenow, and they will kill him!'
"I ran to the open door. Mr. Rising was in the middle of the roadwithout his hat, his sword in his hand; behind him stood his chairmen.He was not going to give me up without a fight. The postboy had drawnthe chaise into the field, and the sedan chair was standing beside it.And down the road, only a little way off, I saw, in the growing lightof daybreak, Lord Fylingdale leading, the captain beside him, andhalf-a-dozen gentlemen following, all on horseback."
"There she is! There is Molly!" cried the captain. "What cheer, lass?What cheer?"
Lord Fylingdale held up his hand. The whole party drew rein andhalted. Then their leader dismounted. They were now about twenty yardsfrom the men. He threw his reins to the nearest of the little troop."Gentlemen," he said, "we must proceed with this business withouthurry or bluster, or threats. Mr. Rising will, perhaps, threaten andbluster. We are here to rescue a lady and to punish a villain. Letboth be done without the appearance of wrath or revenge. CaptainCrowle, do not dismount, I entreat you, until the conclusion of thenext act. Miss Molly is, as you see, apparently safe and unhurt."
They obeyed.
"I shall now measure swords with the young gentleman who thinks thathe can carry off heiresses with impunity. I would advise you toadvance a little closer to the house. He must understand thatpunishment awaits him, if not from me, then from some other of thiscompany."
"Look at Tom," said one of them. "His blood is up. He is now all forfighting. He means mischief, if ever he has meant mischief. I rememberat Swaffham when he fought the young squire of Headingley. That wasabout a girl, too. A mere worthless drab of a tavern servant. Tombroke down the man's guard and ran him through in half a minute. Iwish we were well out of this job."
Tom stood in the road, as I have said, his sword in his hand, his hatlying on the ground before him. If flaming cheeks and eyes as fiery asthose of a bull brought to bay mean mischief, then Tom's intention wasmurderous.
"To thwart Tom in anything," the gentleman went on, "is dangerous; butto take away his girl--and such a girl--to rob him of that greatfortune just at the moment of success--would madden the mildest ofmen. He looks like a madman. Should one warn his lordship? And he hasgot two chairmen with their poles in readiness. We should ride in uponthem before they can do any mischief." So they whispered.
Said Captain Crowle: "Kill him, my lord; kill the villain. Kill him."
"Let me warn your lordship," said the gentleman who had last spoken,"his method will be a fierce attack; he will try to break down yourguard."
"I know that method," Lord Fylingdale replied, coldly. Then he steppedforward and took off his hat. "Mr. Rising," he said, "this affairmight very well be settled by two or three sailors or common porters.We are willing, however, to treat you as a gentleman, which, sir, youno longer deserve."
"Go on, go on," said Tom. "'Twill be all the same in five minutes."
"I am therefore going to do you the honour of fighting you."
"I shall show you how I appreciate that honour. Stop talking, man, andbegin."
"I must, however, warn you that if you are to fight as a gentleman youmust try to behave as one, for this occasion only. Should you attemptany kind of treachery my friends will interfere. In that case you willcertainly not leave the field alive."
"What do you want then?"
"You must send away those two hulking fellows behind you. I am willingto fight you with swords, but I am not going to fight your lackeyswith clubs."
Tom turned round. "Here, you fellows, get off. Go and stand beside thechair. Whatever happens don't interfere. Well, my lord, the soonerthis comes off the better."
He laid down his sword and took off coat and waistcoat, turning up thesleeve of his right arm. Then he turned to Molly and saluted her."Mistress Molly," he said, with a grin, "you are going to have a veryfine sight. Perhaps, when it is over you will be sorry for yourshilly-shally stand off--no, I won't say it. You're not worth carryingoff. If I'd known. Now, my lord."
Lord Fylingdale had also removed his coat and waistcoat, and now stoodin his shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, hat-less.
Just at that moment the sun rose swiftly, as is his manner in thisflat country. It was as if the sky had leaped into light in order togive these swordsmen a clearer view of each other. They were a strangecontrast. Molly's champion erect, pale, and calm; his adversary bent,as if with passion, grasping his sword with eager hand.
"He means mischief," repeated the gentlemen of the troop. "I wouldthis business was ended. I wonder if the noble lord can fight. He doesnot look afraid, anyhow."
"He looks as if he could feel neither fear nor anger, nor love, norany passion at all. He is an iceberg. Ha! they are beginning."
They faced each other.
The swords crossed. "Look to yourself," said Tom. "I will spit youlike a pigeon."
He stamped and lunged. The thrust was parried, easily and lightly. Tomlunged again, and again, with a slight turn of the wrist, the thrustwas parried. But as yet Lord Fylingdale seemed to stand on thedefensive.
"He knows how to fence," they whispered. "See! he means to tire hisadversary. He parries everything. Tom thrusts like a madman. Why, heexposes himself at every lunge. See! he has lost his head. One wouldthink he was fighting with an automaton who could only parry."
At the door stood the object and cause of the encounter, the girl,namely, who had brought all this trouble upon Tom Rising's head. Shestood motionless, hardly breathing, watching the duel, as they say theRoman women used to watch the fight of the gladiators in theamphitheatre, and as I have seen the Spanish women watch the men whofight the bull in their circus. I believe that women, in spite oftheir tender hearts, are carried away out of themselves
by the sightof mere fighting. It is a spectacle which they cannot choose but gazeupon; it shows the true nature of man as opposed to that of woman. Hestands up and risks his life, trusting sometimes to his skill, as in aduel with swords, and sometimes to chance, as on a battlefield wherethe bullets are flying. Molly, therefore, watched the fight withgleaming eyes and parted lips. She was almost ready to forgive the manwho had attempted this injury for the sake of his courage, and shecould not sufficiently admire his adversary for the cold and impassiveway in which he met every furious attack, just with a simple turn ofthe wrist, as it seemed to her.
Tom was a strong and lusty fellow, and he could fight after hisfashion, which was with thrust upon thrust, fast and furious, as ifreckless of himself, so that he could engage his adversary wholly indefence until he found a moment of weakness.
He had fought many times, and hitherto without a scratch or a wound,the fight always ending with his adversary lying prostrate before him.On this occasion, however, he found that every thrust was parried;that his adversary yielded not so much as an inch of ground, and thathe had to do with a wrist of iron and the eye of a hawk.
"Jack!" said Molly. "I hope that I desired not the death of the youngman. But I did desire his defeat. It was splendid to see him stampingon the ground and attacking like lightning. But it was more splendidto see his adversary immovable. He stood like a rock; he showedneither passion nor excitement. He parried every thrust with just aturn of his wrist."
The gentlemen on horseback closed in and looked on holding theirbreath. There was no longer any fear on account of their champion. Forthe first time in their lives they saw as fine a master of fence asever came out of the schools of Paris. Meantime, the other man was asone maddened. He drew back; he roared like a bull; he rushed upon hisenemy; he panted and gasped; but he continued the fight undaunted.
Suddenly, his sword flew out of his hand, and fell in the field besidethe chaise.
"Pick up your master's sword," Lord Fylingdale ordered the chairmen.
The spectators looked to see Tom run through on the spot. On thecontrary, Lord Fylingdale remained in his attitude of defence; he wasplaying with his enemy. "Take your sword," he said. "You are at mymercy. But take your sword, man; we have only just begun."
Tom received his sword, and wiped off the mud upon his shirt. Then herenewed the attack; but it was with less confidence. That one shouldrefuse to finish the duel when he had disarmed his adversary was athing beyond his experience.
"Tom is dashed," said one of the company. "It is all over with Tom."
It was. After a few more lunges, parried with the same quiet skill andcalmness of manner, Tom's sword once more flew out of his hand. Thenthe duel was over, for Lord Fylingdale made one thrust and his swordpassed clean through the right arm at the shoulder, passing out at theother side. Tom reeled; one of his chairmen ran to his help, and hefell upon the ground, fainting in a small pool of blood.
Lord Fylingdale paid no attention to him. He wiped his sword on thegrass, replaced it in the scabbard, and put on his coat and waistcoat.This done, he advanced to Molly.
"Madam," he said, "we are fortunate, indeed, in being able to effect arescue. This is not a place for a lady, nor is this a sight that onewould willingly offer you. I trust that no violence has been used."
"I thank your lordship. It was a horrid sight. Oh! do not let the poorman die. He is a villain, but he has failed. Be merciful."
Then the captain came running up. "Molly!" he cried, with the tearsrunning down his face. "Molly! We are not too late? They haven'tmarried you? The villain is paid. He is paid, I take it. He hasn'tmarried you yet? By the Lord, if he has I will brain him with mycudgel, so you shall be a widow as soon as a wife."
"Captain, can you ask me? The man had a chaise waiting here and wouldhave forced me into it; but I ran into the house, and so to the upperfloor, whither he could not follow. He set his men to pull off thethatch. What he would have done next I know not. But I could defendmyself."
"What is that in your hand, Molly?"
It was the knife, which she still held in readiness. She threw itaway. "I shall not need it now," she said. "What do you think I shouldhave done with it?"
"Molly, I know what you would have done. I said that there was no manin England who could marry you against your will. It was his heart andnot his shoulder that would have received the knife. My dear, I knewmy Molly. I knew my girl."
Then the other gentlemen crowded round, offering theircongratulations, no one taking the least notice of the unlucky Tom,who still lay pale and bleeding on the ground.
It was Lord Fylingdale who came to his assistance. "Here, fellows," heordered the chairmen, "take up your master and put him in thechaise--so. And as for you," he addressed the postboy, "here is aguinea. Drive as fast as you can back to Lynn. Put him to bed in hislodgings and send for a surgeon or a wise woman, or some one to lookafter the wound."
"Will he die?" asked one of the bystanders.
"I should think it not unlikely. His wound is dangerous, and if I knowanything about a man from his appearance I should say that he would beinclined to fever. But we are not concerned with his fate. Whether hedies or lives, he has attempted a villainous act and has met with afitting punishment."
The carriage, with the wounded man in it, went rattling along theroad, the jerks and bumps among the ruts being enough to keep thewound open and the blood flowing.
Then Lord Fylingdale called the chairmen. "Who are you?" he asked. "Doyou belong to the town of Lynn?"
They looked at each other. Then one said, "No; we be from Swaffham.Squire Rising sent for us to do his job."
"Put in your poles. You must now carry the lady back."
"We have done our work," said his lordship. "It remains for us toescort Miss Molly home again. Madam, you can leave this foul den withthe consciousness that you are avenged."
"Indeed, I want no revenge."
"Justice has been done. Justice is not revenge. You can now, madam, goback in the chair in which you were brought here. The villain who madethe attempt is already on his way back. Since you desire mercy ratherthan revenge we must hope that his wound is not fatal."
So Molly reentered the chair. Then she was brought home in triumph.The captain rode on one side; her champion on the other; before andbehind her rode her mounted escort. If she had been a queen they couldnot have shown her greater deference and respect.
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