CHAPTER V
THE MEETING
Sir George awoke next morning, and, after a few lazy moments ofsemi-consciousness, remembered what was before him, it is not to bedenied that he felt a chill. He lay awhile, thinking of the past and thefuture--or the no future--in a way he seldom thought, and with aseriousness for which the life he had hitherto led had left him littletime and less inclination.
But he was young; he had a digestion as yet unimpaired, and nerves stillstrong; and when he emerged an hour later and, more soberly dressed thanwas his wont, proceeded down the High Street towards the CherwellBridge, his spirits were at their normal level. The spring sunshinewhich gilded the pinnacles of Magdalen tower, and shone cool andpleasant on a score of hoary fronts, wrought gaily on him also. Themilksellers and such early folk were abroad, and filled the street withtheir cries; he sniffed the fresh air, and smiled at the good humour andmorning faces that everywhere greeted him; and d----d White's anew, andvowed to live cleanly henceforth, and forswear Pam. In a word, the manwas of such a courage that in his good resolutions he forgot his errand,and whence they arose; and it was with a start that, as he approachedthe gate leading to the college meadows, he marked a chair in waiting,and beside it Mr. Peter Fishwick, from whom he had parted at the Mitreten minutes before.
Soane did not know whether the attorney had preceded him or followedhim: the intrusion was the same, and flushed with annoyance, he strodeto him to mark his sense of it. But Peter, being addressed, wore hissharpest business air, and was entirely unconscious of offence. 'I havemerely purveyed a surgeon,' he said, indicating a young man who stoodbeside him. 'I could not learn that you had provided one, sir.'
'Oh!' Sir George answered, somewhat taken aback, 'this is thegentleman.'
'Yes, sir.'
Soane was in the act of saluting the stranger, when a party of two orthree persons came up behind, and had much ado not to jostle them in thegateway. It consisted of Mr. Dunborough, Lord Almeric, and two othergentlemen; one of these, an elderly man, who wore black and hair-powder,and carried a gold-topped cane, had a smug and well-pleased expression,that indicated his stake in the meeting to be purely altruistic. The twocompanies exchanged salutes.
On this followed a little struggle to give precedence at the gate, buteventually all went through. 'If we turn to the right,' some oneobserved, 'there is a convenient place. No, this way, my lord.'
'Oh Lord, I have such a head this morning!' his lordship answered; andhe looked by no means happy. 'I am all of a twitter! It is so confoundedearly, too. See here: cannot this be--?'
The gentleman who had spoken before drowned his voice. 'Will this do,sir?' he said, raising his hat, and addressing Sir George. The party hadreached a smooth glade or lawn encompassed by thick shrubs, and to allappearance a hundred miles from a street. A fairy-ring of verdure,glittering with sunlight and dewdrops, and tuneful with the songs ofbirds, it seemed a morsel of paradise dropped from the cool blue ofheaven. Sir George felt a momentary tightening of the throat as hesurveyed its pure brilliance, and then a sudden growing anger againstthe fool who had brought him thither.
'You have no second?' said the stranger.
'No,' he answered curtly; 'I think we have witnesses enough.'
'Still--if the matter can be accommodated?'
'It can,' Soane answered, standing stiffly before them. 'But only by anunreserved apology on Mr. Dunborough's part. He struck me. I have nomore to say.'
'I do not offer the apology,' Mr. Dunborough rejoined, with ahorse-laugh. 'So we may as well go on, Jerry. I did not come hereto talk.'
'I have brought pistols,' his second said, disregarding the sneer. 'Butmy principal, though the challenged party, is willing to waive thechoice of weapons.'
'Pistols will do for me,' Sir George answered.
'One shot, at a word. If ineffective, you will take to your swords,' thesecond continued; and he pushed back his wig and wiped his forehead, asif his employment were not altogether to his taste. A duel was a finething--at a distance. He wished, however, that he had some one with whomto share the responsibility, now it was come to the point; and he cast apeevish look at Lord Almeric. But his lordship was, as he had candidlysaid, 'all of a twitter,' and offered no help.
'I suppose that I am to load,' the unlucky second continued. 'That beingso, you, Sir George, must have the choice of pistols.'
Sir George bowed assent, and, going a little aside, removed his hat,wig, and cravat; and was about to button his coat to his throat, when heobserved that Mr. Dunborough was stripping to his shirt. Too proud notto follow the example, though prudence suggested that the white linenmade him a fair mark, he stripped also, and in a trice the two, kickingoff their shoes, moved to the positions assigned to them; and in theirbreeches and laced lawn shirts, their throats bare, confrontedone another.
'Sir George, have you no one to represent you?' cried the second again,grown querulous under the burden. His name, it seemed, was Morris. Hewas a major in the Oxfordshire Militia.
Soane answered with impatience. 'I have no second,' he said, 'but mysurgeon will be a competent witness.'
'Ah! to be sure!' Major Morris answered, with a sigh of relief. 'That isso. Then, gentlemen, I shall give the signal by saying One, two, three!Be good enough to fire together at the word Three! Do you understand?'
'Yes,' said Mr. Dunborough. And 'Yes,' Sir George said more slowly.
'Then, now, be ready! Prepare to fire! One! two! th--'
'Stay!' flashed Mr. Dunborough, while the word still hung in the air.'You have not given us our pistols,' he continued, with an oath.
'What?' cried the second, staring.
'Man, you have not given us our pistols.'
The major was covered with confusion. 'God bless my soul! I have not!'he cried; while Lord Almeric giggled hysterically. 'Dear me! dear me! itis very trying to be alone!' He threw his hat and wig on the grass, andagain wiped his brow, and took up the pistols. 'Sir George? Thank you.Mr. Dunborough, here is yours.' Then: 'Now, are you ready? Thank you.'
He retreated to his place again. 'Are you ready, gentlemen? Are youquite ready?' he repeated anxiously, amid a breathless silence. 'One!two! _three_!'
Sir George's pistol exploded at the word; the hammer of the otherclicked futile in the pan. The spectators, staring, and expecting to seeone fall, saw Mr. Dunborough start and make a half turn. Before they hadtime to draw any conclusion he flung his pistol a dozen paces away, andcursed his second. 'D----n you, Morris!' he cried shrilly; 'you put nopowder in the pan, you hound! But come on, sir,' he continued,addressing Sir George, 'I have this left.' And rapidly changing hissword from his left hand, in which he had hitherto held it, to hisright, he rushed upon his opponent with the utmost fury, as if he wouldbear him down by main force.
'Stay!' Sir George cried; and, instead of meeting him, avoided his firstrush by stepping aside two paces. 'Stay, sir,' he repeated; 'I owe you ashot! Prime afresh. Reload, sir, and--'
But Dunborough, blind and deaf with passion, broke in on him unheeding,and as if he carried no weapon; and crying furiously, 'Guard yourself!'plunged his half-shortened sword at the lower part of Sir George's body.The spectators held their breath and winced; the assault was so sudden,so determined, that it seemed that nothing could save Sir George from athrust thus delivered. He did escape, however, by a bound, quick as acat's; but the point of Dunborough's weapon ripped up his breeches onthe hip, the hilt rapped against the bone, and the two men came togetherbodily. For a moment they wrestled, and seemed to be going to fightlike beasts.
Then Sir George, his left forearm under the other's chin, flung himthree paces away; and shifting his sword into his right hand--hithertohe had been unable to change it--he stopped Dunborough's savage rushwith the point, and beat him off and kept him off--parrying his lunges,and doing his utmost the while to avoid dealing him a fatal wound. Soanewas so much the better swordsman--as was immediately apparent to allthe onlookers--that he no longer feared for himself; all his fears werefor his
opponent, the fire and fury of whose attacks he could notexplain to himself, until he found them flagging; and flagging so fastthat he sought a reason. Then Dunborough's point beginning to waver, andhis feet to slip, Sir George's eyes were opened; he discerned a crimsonpatch spread and spread on the other's side--where unnoticed Dunboroughhad kept his hand--and with a cry for help he sprang forward in time tocatch the falling man in his arms.
As the others ran in, the surgeons quickly and silently, Lord Almericmore slowly, and with exclamations, Sir George lowered his burden gentlyto the ground. The instant it was done, Morris touched his arm andsigned to him to stand back. 'You can do no good, Sir George,' he urged.'He is in skilful hands. He would have it; it was his own fault. I canbear witness that you did your best not to touch him.'
'I did not touch him,' Soane muttered.
The second looked his astonishment. 'How?' he said. 'You don't mean tosay that he is not wounded? See there!' And he pointed to the bloodwhich dyed the shirt. They were cutting the linen away.
'It was the pistol,' Sir George answered.
Major Morris's face fell, and he groaned. 'Good G--d!' he said, staringbefore him. 'What a position I am in! I suppose--I suppose, sir, hispistol was not primed?'
'I am afraid not,' Soane answered.
He was still in his shirt, and bareheaded; but as he spoke one ofseveral onlookers, whom the clatter of steel had drawn to the spot,brought his coat and waistcoat, and held them while he put them on.Another handed his hat and wig, a third brought his shoes and knelt andbuckled them; a fourth his kerchief. All these services he acceptedfreely, and was unconscious of them--as unconscious as he was of theeager deference, the morbid interest, with which they waited on him,eyed him, and stared at him. His own thoughts, eyes, attention, werefixed on the group about the fallen man; and when the elder surgeonglanced over his shoulder, as wanting help, he strode to them.
'If we had a chair here, and could move him at once,' the smug gentlemanwhispered, 'I think we might do.'
'I have a chair. It is at the gate,' his colleague answered.
'Have you? A good thought of yours!'
'The credit should lie--with my employer,' the younger man answered in alow voice. 'It was his thought; here it comes. Sir George, will you begood enough--' But then, seeing the baronet's look of mute anxiety, hebroke off. 'It is dangerous, but there is hope--fair hope,' he answered.'Do you, my dear sir, go to your inn, and I will send thither when he issafely housed. You can do no good here, and your presence may excite himwhen he recovers from the swoon.'
Sir George, seeing the wisdom of the advice, nodded assent; andremarking for the first time the sensation of which he was the centre,was glad to make the best of his way towards the gates. He had barelyreached them--without shaking off a knot of the more curious, who stillhung on his footsteps--when Lord Almeric, breathless and agitated, cameup with him.
'You are for France, I suppose?' his lordship panted. And then, withoutwaiting for an answer: 'What would you advise me to do?' he babbled.'Eh? What do you think? It will be the devil and all for me, you know.'
Sir George looked askance at him, contempt in his eye. 'I cannot adviseyou,' he said. 'For my part, my lord, I remain here.'
His lordship was quite taken aback. 'No, you don't?' he said. 'Remainhere!--You don't mean it,'
'I usually mean--what I say,' Soane answered in a tone that he thoughtmust close the conversation.
But Lord Almeric kept up with him. 'Ay, but will you?' he babbled invacuous admiration. 'Will you really stay here? Now that is uncommonbold of you! I should not have thought of that--of staying here, I mean.I should go to France till the thing blew over. I don't know that Ishall not do so now. Don't you think I should be wise, Sir George? Myposition, you know. It is uncommon low, is a trial, and--'
Sir George halted so abruptly that will-he, nill-he, the other went on afew paces. 'My lord, you should know your own affairs best,' he said ina freezing tone. 'And, as I desire to be alone, I wish your lordship avery good day.'
My lord had never been so much astonished in his life. 'Oh, goodmorning,' he said, staring vacantly, 'good morning!' but by the time hehad framed the words, Sir George was a dozen paces away.
It was an age when great ladies wept out of wounded vanity or for a lossat cards--yet made a show of their children lying in state; when menentertained the wits and made their wills in company, before they boweda graceful exit from the room and life. Doubtless people felt, feared,hoped, and perspired as they do now, and had their ambitions apart fromPam and the loo table. Nay, Rousseau was printing. But the 'NouvelleHeloise,' though it was beginning to be read, had not yet set the modeof sensibility, or sent those to rave of nature who all their lives hadknown nothing but art. The suppression of feeling, or rather thecultivation of no feeling, was still the mark of a gentleman; hismaxim; honoured alike at Medmenham and Marly, to enjoy--to enjoy, be thecost to others what it might.
Bred in such a school, Sir George should have viewed what had happenedwith polite indifference, and put himself out no further than wascourteous, or might serve to set him right with a jury, if the worstcame to the worst. But, whether because he was of a kindlier stuff thanthe common sort of fashionables, or was too young to be quite spoiled,he took the thing that had occurred with unexpected heaviness; and,reaching his inn, hastened to his room to escape alike the curiositythat dogged him and the sympathy that, for a fine gentleman, is neverfar to seek. To do him justice, his anxiety was not for himself, or theconsequences to himself, which at the worst were not likely to exceed anominal verdict of manslaughter, and at the best would be an acquittal;the former had been Lord Byron's lot, the latter Mr. Brown's, and eachhad killed his man. Sir George had more _savoir faire_ than to troublehimself about this; but about his opponent and his fate he felt ahaunting--and, as Lord Almeric would have said, a low--concern thatwould let him neither rest nor sit. In particular, when he rememberedthe trifle from which all had arisen, he felt remorse and sorrow; whichgrew to the point of horror when he recalled the last look whichDunborough, swooning and helpless, had cast in his face.
In one of these paroxysms he was walking the room when the eldersurgeon, who had attended his opponent to the field, was announced.Soane still retained so much of his life habit as to show an unmovedfront; the man of the scalpel thought him hard and felt himselfrepelled; and though he had come from the sick-room hot-foot and ladenwith good news, descended to a profound apology for the intrusion.
'But I thought that you might like to hear, sir,' he continued, nursinghis hat, and speaking as if the matter were of little moment, 'that Mr.Dunborough is as--as well as can be expected. A serious case--I mightcall it a most serious case,' he continued, puffing out his cheeks. 'Butwith care--with care I think we may restore him. I cannot say morethan that.'
'Has the ball been extracted?'
'It has, and so far well. And the chair being on the spot, Sir George,so that he was moved without a moment's delay--for which I believe wehave to thank Mr.--Mr.--'
'Fishwick,' Soane suggested.
'To be sure--_that_ is so much gained. Which reminds me,' the smuggentleman continued, 'that Mr. Attorney begged me to convey his duty andinform you that he had made the needful arrangements and provided bail,so that you are at liberty to leave, Sir George, at any hour.'
'Ah!' Soane said, marvelling somewhat. 'I shall stay here, nevertheless,until I hear that Mr. Dunborough is out of danger.'
'An impulse that does you credit, sir,' the surgeon said impressively.'These affairs, alas! are very greatly to be de--'
'They are d--d inconvenient,' Sir George drawled. 'He is not out ofdanger yet, I suppose?'
The surgeon stared and puffed anew. 'Certainly not, sir,' he said.
'Ah! And where have you placed him?'
'The Honourable Mr.--, the sufferer?'
'To be sure! Who else, man?' Soane asked impatiently.
'In some rooms at Magdalen,' the doctor answered, breathing hard. Andthen, 'Is it your
wish that I should report to you to-morrow, sir?'
'You will oblige me. Thank you. Good-day.'
The Castle Inn Page 5
