The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  For a few moments his strong nerves were shaken, and he regarded the approaching meeting with dread. But this feeling passed off quickly, and he laughed at his own fears.

  “This is superstitious folly,” he mentally ejaculated. “Because this crazy woman has unexpectedly appeared on the scene, and threatened me, am I to be made uneasy? That would be to confess myself as weak as herself. No, let me keep my nerves firmly strung. Let me be prepared to act, as I did when I encountered Sir Thomas Starkey, and in a very few minutes Stanley will be lying at my feet, never to rise again. But if I give way to idle fears, my hand will shake when it should be steady, and I shall certainly miss my aim.”

  CHAPTER IX.

  STANLEY’S MESSAGE TO MILDRED.

  DEEMING it desirable to familiarise himself with the ground, Stanley, accompanied by his two friends and the Comte de Clairvaux, drove over, in the course of the day, to the place of the meeting. He had engaged an open carriage, and was driven by Sir Thomas Starkey’s coachman and attended by the Comte’s valet, Pierre.

  As the morning was very fine, they all enjoyed the drive. They alighted near the old oak, and after carefully examining the ground, which Stanley regarded with deep interest, they ascended the mound which, it may be remembered, stood near the spot.

  On the further side of this eminence they perceived a female figure, which Stanley and the Comte at once recognised as Sister Aline, and they went to speak to her.

  “I did not expect to find you here,” said Stanley; “but I suppose you could not help coming.”

  “I have been praying for you,” she replied; “and I am persuaded you will be successful to-morrow. Your cause is as good as your adversary is bad.”

  “Mr. Brereton has got a dangerous antagonist,” remarked the Comte. “But if he will follow my advice he has nothing to fear. Aim high, and fire quick.”

  “It is my intention to fire as quickly as I can,” said Stanley.

  “Have your friends ever acted as seconds in a duel before?” asked the Count.

  “I think not,” replied Stanley. “But I have no doubt they will carry me through satisfactorily.”

  “A great deal depends upon experience,” said the Count. “I must give them a few hints. With regard to yourself — If your hand is perfectly steady, raise your pistol as quickly as you can, and since your purpose is to kill, fire when you gain the region of the heart. A second will make all the difference — remember that. In the former duel, it was promptitude that gave Darcy success.”

  “I fancied so,” replied Stanley; “and I therefore resolved to be quick — and I have perfect reliance on myself.”

  “I am very glad to hear it,” replied the Count. “And now, excuse me for a few minutes, while I have a little talk with those gentlemen, I can see they are unaccustomed to these matters.”

  So saying, he went to the seconds, and explained some details to them, with which he felt sure they were unacquainted.

  Meanwhile, Stanley remained with Sister Aline, and remarked, “I am glad of this opportunity of saying a few words in private to you. If I should be unfortunate in this affair, I shall feel inexpressibly obliged if you will carry back some message to those dear to me. Pray see my dear mother, and tell her with what warmth of affection I thought of her. Bid a tender adieu to Rose, and pray her to think of me. Bid farewell, also, to Mr. Warburton, from whom I have experienced so much kindness, and for whom I have the greatest regard.”

  He then paused for a short time before he proceeded, and his faltering voice betrayed his emotion.

  “Should Mildred never behold me again, she will understand that her penitence has produced the greatest effect upon me. I fully believe in it, and entirely forgive her.”

  “Never was repentance more deep and sincere than hers,” said Sister Aline; “and I feel convinced that her sins — great as they are — will be pardoned. Darcy is responsible for them. But I entreat you, address a few lines to the poor penitent, which I will convey. They will be the greatest comfort, and in return I will promise you her prayers.”

  “Your request shall be complied with,” replied Stanley, with much emotion.

  Just then, another open carriage, containing Darcy and his friends, arrived on the ground. Evidently they had come on the same errand as themselves.

  Next moment, the Comte came up, and pointed them out “We had better hasten our departure, since they have come,” he said.

  “Decidedly,” replied Stanley. “How will you get back to Dieppe?” he said to Sister Aline.

  “I have a carriage,” she replied. “It is yonder at the further side of the mound.”

  “Bear in mind,” said Stanley, “that the meeting will take place to-morrow morning at eight o’clock, punctually. You will confer the greatest favour possible upon me, if you will be upon the ground at the time, as I may possibly — though I trust I shall not — require your services. If you comply with my request, pray station yourself near this eminence!”

  “Before eight o’clock to-morrow morning, I will be here,” she rejoined.

  Descending the further side of the mound she entered the carriage waiting for her, and returned to Dieppe.

  At the same time, Stanley, attended by his friends, went down the front of the little eminence, and bowing formally to Darcy and the two officers, who returned their salutes just as stiffly, drove back to the Establishment des Bains, where they passed the rest of the morning.

  Again, they dined at the Casino, and once more met Darcy and his friends.

  CHAPTER X.

  THE MEETING.

  APPARENTLY, the hostile party were in tolerably good spirits, for they drank two or three bottles of champagne.

  “Take my advice,” said the Comte to Stanley. “Don’t touch champagne to-day.”

  At six o’clock next morning, a close carriage, containing only Sister Aline, left Dieppe, and took the road to the Chateau d’Arques, but only proceeded so far as the old oak, near to which the Sister alighted, and after gazing for a short time on the spot which seemed to awaken very painful memories, she ascended the adjacent mound.

  The morning was extremely fine, and the prospect beautiful, but she looked sad and preoccupied, and noticed nothing but the scene of the former duel.

  Looking towards it, she exclaimed, “This day I trust thou wilt be avenged. Nay, I am assured of it. He who ventured to judge and punish others shall now be judged and punished in his turn. The hour of vengeance is, at length, arrived. Be present, if thou canst — though unseen — and witness the defeat and chastisement of this wicked and deceitful man! May the bullet aimed against him be lodged deep in his breast — and when he falls, may he never rise again!”

  As she concluded her half-frenzied invocation, she fancied that the shade of Sir Thomas Starkey was hovering near.

  She then knelt down on the ground and prayed long and fervently.

  An hour later three well-appointed carriages were standing in front of the Hôtel Royal.

  The foremost was intended for the Comte de Clairvaux and M. Martin, the surgeon — the latter having already taken his place inside, while his assistant, with a bag filled with surgical instruments, had mounted by the side of the coachman.

  The two other carriages were destined for those about to be actually engaged in the duel — it being intended that Darcy and his friends should proceed first to the ground.

  The morning, as we have already mentioned, was exceedingly beautiful, so that if their errand had been an agreeable one, they might have anticipated a very pleasant drive.

  Darcy and his friends had disappeared before Stanley and the others set out, but they were in no hurry as they knew the Comte de Clairvaux would arrange everything for them.

  In half an hour all these persons had reached their destination.

  Perceiving Sister Aline on the mound, Stanley went to say a few words to her, and was received with the assurance of victory.

  “Listen to me,” she said. “Since I have been here — on this
mound — I have seen Sir Thomas.”

  “You fancy so,” said Stanley, sceptically.

  “I am certain of it,” she rejoined. “He stood before me, as he lived. I then questioned him as to your likelihood of success, and he told me you would infallibly win.”

  “You have put fresh courage in my heart,” said Stanley.

  “Place yourself before your antagonist without fear,” said sister Aline. “Success is certain.”

  “I hope so,” said Stanley. “But should these anticipations prove delusive — should I fall, come down to me!”

  “I will,” she replied.

  Stanley then descended to his friends, feeling confident of success.

  By this time the ground had been measured, and this necessary duty had been performed by Colonel Seymour and Mr. Wynn, assisted by the Comte.

  The order was then given that no one must remain on the ground, except the principals — the surgeon and his assistant being stationed as near the spot as was consistent with safety.

  Before the Comte retired, Colonel Seymour came up to him and asked whether any arrangement was possible between the parties, as he should be very happy to promote it “I do not think so, Colonel,” replied the Comte. “The feeling is very strong on the part of my friend Mr. Stanley Brereton.”

  On applying to Mr. Wynn and Mr. Linton, the Colonel found the opinion confirmed. These gentlemen declared their instructions were positive. No arrangement whatever could be made.

  “Nothing, I regret to say, can be done,” said Col. Seymour to the Comte. “The matter must be fought out.”

  “Then let the men be placed, Colonel. Further delay is needless.”

  This was done, and the expectant combatants regarded each other sternly.

  Pistol-cases were then produced, and a loaded weapon delivered to each person about to be engaged in the conflict.

  When Stanley received his pistol, he experienced a sensation such as he had never felt before. He had an ardent desire for vengeance, but could not keep his hand quite steady, and was afraid that this nervous excitement, slight as it was, might interfere with his aim.

  He felt his antagonist’s eye fixed upon him, and kept his own eye on his antagonist.

  Thus they remained for about half a minute, perfectly motionless, and with pistols lowered.

  With the exception of Colonel Seymour, the seconds had now retired; but hitherto, the colonel had remained sufficiently near to superintend the proceedings.

  He now drew back a few paces, and at the same moment the two combatants began slowly and steadily to raise their pistols.

  As soon as he thought the weapons high enough, he clapped his hands, and both combatants fired, as nearly as possible at the same instant — though, perhaps, Stanley was first.

  For a moment, it was impossible to say whether either was hit; but, as Colonel Seymour and Captain Townley moved towards Darcy, the latter placed his hand upon his breast, and the expression of his countenance showed that he was hurt “You won’t continue the conflict, I suppose?” said the Colonel.

  “I cannot,” replied Darcy, faintly. “I am dangerously hurt. I shan’t be able to stand more than a minute longer.”

  “Here is M. Martin,” said the Comte, bringing up the surgeon.

  After assisting Darcy to take off his coat and waistcoat, the surgeon opened the shirt, which was deeply stained with blood.

  “It is a very bad wound,” he said, as he examined it, “and you must prepare for the worst.”

  Darcy bore himself like a brave man at this formidable announcement, but he certainly would have fallen to the ground if some powerful restorative had not been applied.

  His two seconds having come up, he leaned for support against Colonel Seymour’s shoulder.

  At the same moment, Sister Aline, who had descended from the mound, whence she had witnessed the conflict, came up, and asked if she could render him any religious service.

  “Pray for me,” he replied faintly.

  At the same time the surgeon whispered in her ear, “Understand he is mortally wounded.”

  She then knelt down at Darcy’s feet, and prayed fervently for him, concluding thus, “Deliver his soul, O Lord! May he rest in peace!”

  Meanwhile, Captain Townley kept all persons, except the surgeon and his assistant, from approaching the dying man.

  At the conclusion of Sister Aline’s prayer, Darcy slightly raised his head, and said in a low voice to Colonel Seymour, “Who is there standing beside me?”

  “Where?” demanded the Colonel. “There is no one except that devotee, who has now finished her prayer.”

  “There is a figure standing near me. Don’t you perceive it?”

  “No,” replied the Colonel, “it is mere fancy.”

  “It seems like Sir Thomas Starkey,” said Darcy, awe-stricken.

  “It is Sir Thomas Starkey,” replied Sister Aline.

  “Dismiss the notion from your mind, if you can,” said the Colonel. “Ah! he is gone!” he exclaimed, as a deep groan was heard, and he had nothing but an inert mass to sustain.

  “Heaven pardon him,” ejaculated Sister Aline, seeing what had happened, and turning to depart.

  Colonel Seymour laid the body gently on the ground, while the others gathered round it.

  CHAPTER XI.

  GEORGETTE AGREES TO ACCOMPANY SISTER ALINE.

  As Sister Aline walked quickly towards her carriage, which she had ordered to wait for her at a particular place, she saw her former attendant, Georgette, coming towards her, and as she had still a great regard for that devoted servant she stopped to say a word to her.

  “Do you know what has just happened, Georgette?”

  “No, dearest Sister,” replied the other, making her a profound reverence. “I could see that somebody was killed, but could not tell who it was.”

  “It was Captain Darcy, the officer who shot poor Sir Thomas Starkey, and has now got punished in his turn. I trust he has been able to make his peace with Heaven, for he had many heavy sins on his head. He was shot by Stanley Brereton, with whose beautiful young wife he had eloped, but would not stay with him, and is now a sincere penitent Stanley Brereton is a nephew of Sir Thomas Starkey, so you see there is retributive justice in what has happened.”

  “I do — I do, dearest Sister! How pleased I am that the wicked Darcy has been killed, and on the very spot where poor Sir Thomas fell. Oh! it is most satisfactory!”

  “Hear me, Georgette,” said the Sister. “I am now going back, as soon as I can, to England. Will you attend me?”

  “Nothing I should like so much, dearest Sister.”

  “For the present I am residing with the poor penitent lady I have just mentioned to you, and entirely devote myself to her. Formerly, I know, you were greatly attached to me, and I found it very hard to part with you.”

  “I am just as much attached to you now, dearest Sister.”

  “Will it take you long to make your arrangements for the journey?”

  “Only so long as I shall require to pack up my things. I am now at home.”

  “Your parents used to live at a small house not far from the Hôtel Royal.”

  “They live there still. I shall only need to drive there — to tell my mother I am going to England with Sister Aline — to pack my little valise — and all is ready.”

  “Come then!” said Sister Aline.

  And she hastened to her carriage, closely attended by Georgette.

  “I have my malles with me,” she said. “So I need not go back to the hotel. Tell the coachman where your mother lives — bid him drive there at once, and then get in with me.”

  Georgette obeyed, gave all needful explanations to the coachman, and in a few minutes more was seated by Sister Aline, and on her way to Dieppe.

  Georgette’s mother was delighted with the arrangement just made, and assisted her daughter to pack up the scanty luggage she meant to take with her. When this was prepared their valises were sent on board the packet, which
fortunately did not start for Newhaven till noon. The house where Sister Aline stopped in the interim being close to the Hotel Royal, as we have already intimated, she witnessed a very painful spectacle.

  It was the body of a handsome and gallant gentleman, who had gone forth full of confidence and spirit a few hours before to fight a duel, and had been brought back with a mortal wound in his breast by a surgeon and his assistant.

  CHAPTER XII.

  HOW THE TIDINGS OF DARCY’S FATE WERE RECEIVED.

  WELL knowing what anxiety would be felt on his account by his mother and Mr. Warburton, Stanley’s first business on returning from the place of meeting to Dieppe was to send each a telegraphic message, stating the result of the duel.

  Most welcome were these tidings, and the relief afforded by them incalculable.

  Fear, by this time, had got the better of Mrs. Brereton, and feeling almost certain that Stanley would fall by the hand of his formidable adversary, she could not help imparting her uneasiness to Rose, who was almost equally alarmed.

  It will be imagined, therefore, what they felt on learning that Stanley had been victorious, and the dreaded Darcy killed.

  Now that the affair was decided, and so satisfactorily, Mrs. Brereton declared she had never had any doubt about it. It could not be otherwise. Darcy, the wrong-doer, would never be permitted to triumph, and was very properly punished. At the good news, the whole aspect of the place was changed, and joy and triumph succeeded to dejection and gloom.

  “We will drive over to Beaucliffe, my dear, this afternoon,” said Mrs. Brereton to Rose. “It is worth while fighting a duel if one can come off in this way.”

  Much the same sort of thing occurred at Beaucliffe.

  By this time it had somehow or other oozed out that a meeting was about to take place between Stanley and Darcy, and everybody felt anxious for the former.

  No sooner did the Squire receive his telegram, than he hastened to import it to Mildred.