CHAPTER XI
MY LORD TURNS RESCUER AND COMES NIGH ENDING HIS LIFE
Late that afternoon Carstares left Thurze House on one of his friend'shorses. He waved a very regretful farewell to O'Hara and his lady,promising to let them know his whereabouts and to visit them again soon.O'Hara had extracted a solemn promise that if ever he got intodifficulties he would let him know:
"For I'm not letting ye drift gaily out of me life again, and that'sflat."
Jack had assented gladly enough--to have a friend once more was suchbliss--and had given Miles the name of the inn and the village where hewould find him, for O'Hara had insisted on bringing the mare overhimself. So Carstares rode off to Trencham and to Jim, with the memoryof a very hearty handshake in his mind. He smiled a little as he thoughtof his friend's words when he had shown himself reluctant to give therequired promise:
"Ye obstinate young devil, ye'll do as I say, and no nonsense, or yedon't leave this house!"
For six years no one had ordered him to obey; it had been he who haddone all the ordering. Somehow it was very pleasant to be told what todo, especially by Miles.
He turned down a lane and wondered what Jim was thinking. That he waswaiting at the Green Man, he was certain, for those had been his orders.He was annoyed with the man over the incident of the pistols, for he hadinspected them and discovered that they were indeed unloaded. Had hiscaptor been other than O'Hara, on whom he could not fire, suchcarelessness might have proved his undoing. Apart from that, culpablenegligence always roused his wrath. A rather warm twenty minutes was instore for Salter.
For quite an hour Carstares proceeded on his way with no mishaps noradventures, and then, suddenly, as he rounded a corner of a desertedroad--little more than a cart-track--an extraordinary sight met hiseyes. In the middle of the road stood a coach, and by it, covering themen on the box with two large pistols, was a seedy-looking ruffian,while two others were engaged in what appeared to be a life-and-deathstruggle at the coach-door.
Jacked reined-in his horse and rose in his stirrups to obtain a betterview. Then his eyes flashed, and he whistled softly to himself. For thecause of all the turmoil was a slight, graceful girl of not more thannineteen or twenty. She was frenziedly resisting the efforts of hercaptors to drag her to another coach, further up the road. Jack couldsee that she was dark and very lovely.
Another, elderly lady, was most valiantly impeding operations by clawingand striking at one of the men's arms, scolding and imploring all in onebreath. Jack's gaze went from her to a still, silent figure at the sideof the road in the shadow of the hedge, evidently the stage-manager. "Itseems I must take a hand in this," he told himself, and laughed joyouslyas he fixed on his mask and dismounted. He tethered his mount to a youngsapling, took a pistol from its holster, and ran softly and swiftlyunder the lea of the hedge up to the scene of disaster, just as the manwho covered the unruly and vociferous pair on the box made ready tofire.
Jack's bullet took him neatly in the neck, and without a sound hecrumpled up, one of his pistols exploding harmlessly as it fell toearth.
With an oath the silent onlooker wheeled round to face the point of mylord's gleaming blade.
Carstares drew in his breath sharply in surprise as he saw the whiteface of his Grace of Andover.
"Damn you!" said Tracy calmly, and sprang back, whipping out his ownrapier.
"Certainly," agreed Jack pleasantly. "On guard, M. le Duc!"
Tracy's lips curled back in a snarl. His eyes were almost shut. Over hisshoulder he ordered curtly:
"Keep watch over the girl. I will attend to this young jackanapes."
On the word the blades clashed.
Jack's eyes danced with the sheer joy of battle, and his point snickedin and out wickedly. He knew Tracy of old for an expert swordsman, andhe began warily.
The girl's persecutors retained a firm hold on either arm, but all theirthoughts were centred on the duel. The men on the box got out theirblunderbuss, ready to fire should the need arise, and the girl herselfwatched breathlessly, red lips apart, and eyes aglow with fright,indignation, and excitement. As for the old lady, she positively bobbedup and down shrieking encouragement to Carstares.
The blades hissed continuously against one another; time after time theDuke thrust viciously, and ever his point was skilfully parried. He wasabsolutely calm, and his lips sneered. Who it was that he was fighting,he had not the faintest idea; he only knew that his opponent hadrecognised him, and must be speedily silenced. Therefore he fought withdeadly grimness and purpose. Carstares, on the other hand, had nointention of killing his Grace. He had never liked him in the old days,but he was far too good-natured to contemplate any serious bloodshed. Hewas so used to Tracy's little affairs that he had not been filled withsurprise when he discovered who the silent figure was. He did not likeinterfering with Belmanoir, but, on the other hand, he could no morestand by and see a woman assaulted than he could fly. So he fought onwith the idea of disarming his Grace, so as to have him at adisadvantage and to be able to command his withdrawal from the scene.Once he feinted cleverly, and lunged, and a little blood trickled downover the Duke's hand. No sign made Belmanoir, except that his eyelidsflickered a moment and his play became more careful.
Once the Duke thrust in tierce and Jack's sword arm wavered an instant,and a splash of crimson appeared on his sleeve. He, for the most part,remained on the defensive, waiting for the Duke to tire. Soon hisGrace's breath began to come unevenly and fast, and beads of moisturestarted on his forehead. Yet never did the sneer fade nor his temper go;he had himself well in hand, and although his face was livid, and hisbrain on fire with fury, no trace of it showed itself in his sword-play.
Then Carstares changed his tactics, and began to put into practice allthe arts and subtleties of fence that he had learnt abroad. He seemedmade of steel and set on wires, so agile and untireable was he. Timeafter time he leapt nimbly aside, evading some wicked thrust, and allthe while he was driving his Grace back and back. He was not panting,and now and again he laughed softly and happily. The blood from thewound on his arm was dripping steadily on to the ground, yet it seemedto Tracy to affect him not at all. But Jack himself knew that he waslosing strength rapidly, and must make an end.
Suddenly he feinted, and fell back. Tracy saw his advantage and pressedforward within the wavering sword-point.
The next instant his sword was whirled from his grasp, and he lay on theground, unhurt but helpless, gazing up at the masked face and at theshortened rapier. How he had been thrown he did not know, but that hisopponent was a past master in the art of fence he was perfectly sure.
My lord gave a little chuckle and twisted a handkerchief about hiswounded arm.
"I am aware, m'sieur, that this is most unusual--and, induels--forbidden. But I am sure that milor' will agree that thecircumstances are also--most unusual--and the odds--almostoverwhelming!" He turned his head to the two men, one of whom releasedhis hold on the girl's arm and started forward.
"Oh, no!" drawled my lord, shaking his head. "Another step and I spityour master where he lies."
"Stand," said his Grace calmly.
"_Bien_! Throw your arms down here at my feet, and--ah--releaseMademoiselle!"
They made no move to obey, and my lord shrugged deprecatingly, loweringhis point to Tracy's throat.
"_Eh bien!_"
They still hesitated, casting anxious glances at their master. "Obey,"ordered the Duke.
Each man threw down a pistol, eyeing Jack furtively, while the girl ranto her aunt, who began to soothe and fuss over her.
Jack stifled a yawn.
"It is not my intention to remain here all night. Neither am I achild--or a fool. _Depechez!_"
Belmanoir saw that the coachman had his blunderbuss ready and was onlytoo eager to fire it, and he knew that the game was up. He turned hishead towards the reluctant bullies who looked to him for orders.
"Throw down everything!" he advised.
Two more pistols and two dag
gers joined their comrades.
"A thousand thanks!" bowed my lord, running a quick eye over the men."M. le Duc, I pray you be still. Now, you with the large nose--yes, _monami_, you--go pick up the pistol our defunct friend dropped."
The man indicated slouched over to the dead body and flung anotherpistol on to the heap.
My lord shook his head impatiently.
"_Mais non_. Have I not said that I am not entirely a fool? Theunexploded pistol, please. You will place it here, _doucement._ Verygood."
His eye travelled to the men on the box. The coachman touched his hatand cried:
"I'm ready, sir!"
"It is very well. Be so good as to keep these gentlemen covered, but donot fire until I give the order. And now, M. le Duc, have I your parolethat you will return swiftly from whence you came, leaving this ladyunmolested, an I permit you to rise?"
Tracy moved his head impatiently.
"I have no choice."
"Monsieur, that is not an answer. Have I your parole?"
"Yes, curse you!"
"But certainly," said Jack politely. "Pray rise."
He rested his sword-point on the ground, and watched Tracy struggle tohis feet.
For an instant the Duke stood staring at him, with face slightlyout-thrust.
"I almost think I know you," he said softly, caressingly.
Jack's French accent became a shade more pronounced.
"It is possible. I at least have the misfortune to know monsieur bysight."
Tracy ignored the insult, and continued very, very silkily:
"One thing is certain: I shall know you again--if I meet you!"
Even as the words left his mouth Jack saw the pistol in his hand andsprang quickly to one side, just in time to escape a shot that wouldhave gone straight through his head. As it was, it caught him in hisleft shoulder.
"Do not fire!" he called sharply to the coachman, and bowed to hisGrace. "As I was saying, m'sieu--do not let me detain you, I beg."
The Duke's green eyes flashed venom for a minute, and then the heavylids descended over them again, and he returned the bow exaggeratedly.
"_Au revoir_, monsieur," he smiled, and bent to pick up his sword.
"It will--not be necessary for--m'sieu to--take his sword," said Jack."I have a--desire to keep--it as a--souvenir. Yes."
"As you will, monsieur," replied Tracy carelessly, and walked away tohis coach, his men following close on his heels.
My lord stood leaning heavily on his sword, watching them go, and notuntil the coach had swung out of sight did he give way to the weaknessthat was overwhelming him. Then he reeled and would have fallen, had itnot been for two cool hands that caught his, steadying him.
A tremulous, husky voice sounded in his ears:
"You are hurt! Ah, sir, you are hurt for my sake!"
With a great effort Jack controlled the inclination to swoon, and liftedthe girl's hand shakily to his lips.
"It is a--pleasure--mademoiselle," he managed to gasp. "Now--you may--Ithink--proceed--in safety."
Diana slipped an arm under his shoulder and cast an anxious glance atthe footman, hurrying towards them.
"Quick!" she commanded. "Sir, you are faint! You must allow my servantto assist you to the coach."
Jack forced a smile.
"It is--nothing--I assure you--pray do not--I--" and he faintedcomfortably away into stout Thomas's arms.
"Carry him into the coach, Thomas!" ordered the girl. "Mind his arm,and--oh! his poor shoulder. Aunt, have you something to bind his woundswith?"
Miss Betty hurried forward.
"My darling child, what an escape! The dear, brave gentleman! Do have acare, Thomas! Yes, lay him on the seat."
My lord was lowered gently on to the cushions, and Miss Betty flutteredover to him like a distracted hen. Then Diana told Thomas to take chargeof my lord's horse that they could see, quietly nibbling the grassfurther down the road, stooped and picked up his Grace of Andover'ssword, with its curiously wrought hilt, and jumped into the coach tohelp Miss Betty to attend to Jack's wounds.
The slash on the arm was not serious, but where the pistol had taken himwas very ugly-looking. While she saw to that, Miss Betty loosened thecravat and removed my lord's mask.
"Di, see what a handsome boy 'tis! The poor, brave gentleman! What alucky thing he came up! If only this bleeding would stop!" So she ranon, hunting wildly for her salts.
Diana looked up as her aunt finished, and studied the pale face lyingagainst the dark cushions. She noted the firm, beautifully curved mouth,the aristocratic nose and delicately pencilled eyebrows, with a littlethrill. The duel had set her every nerve tingling; she was filled withadmiration for her preserver, and the sight of his sensitive, handsomecountenance did nothing to dispel that admiration.
She held the salts to his nostrils and watched eagerly for some sign oflife. But none was forthcoming, and she had to be content with placingcushions beneath his injured shoulder, and guarding him as best shemight from the jolts caused by the uneven surface of the road.
Miss Betty bustled about and did all she could to stanch the bleeding,and when they had comfortably settled my lord, she sat down upon theseat opposite and nodded decisively.
"We can do no more, my dear--but, yes--certainly bathe his forehead withyour lavender water. Dear me, what an escape! I must say I would neverhave thought it of Mr. Everard! One would say we were living in theStone Age! The wretch!"
Diana shuddered.
"I knew he was dreadful, but never _how_ dreadful! How can he have foundout when we were to leave Bath--and why did he waylay us so near home?Oh, I shall never be safe again!"
"Nonsense, my dear! Fiddlesticks! You saw how easily he was vanquished.Depend upon it, he will realise that he has made a bad mistake to try toabduct you, and we shall not be worried with him again."
With this comfortable assurance, she nodded again and leant back againstthe cushions, watching her niece's ministrations with a professional andslightly amused air.
The Black Moth: A Romance of the XVIIIth Century Page 11
