CHAPTER VIII.
HE WOULD BE A GOOD BROTHER, WERE HE NOT A GOOD SON.
There was no one in the gallery.
Gwynplaine crossed the circular space, from whence they had removed thearm-chair and the tables, and where there now remained no trace of hisinvestiture. Candelabra and lustres, placed at certain intervals, markedthe way out. Thanks to this string of light, he retraced withoutdifficulty, through the suite of saloons and galleries, the way which hehad followed on his arrival with the King-at-Arms and the Usher of theBlack Rod. He saw no one, except here and there some old lord with tardysteps, plodding along heavily in front of him.
Suddenly, in the silence of those great deserted rooms, bursts ofindistinct exclamations reached him, a sort of nocturnal clatter unusualin such a place. He directed his steps to the place whence this noiseproceeded, and found himself in a spacious hall, dimly lighted, whichwas one of the exits from the House of Lords. He saw a great glass dooropen, a flight of steps, footmen and links, a square outside, and a fewcoaches waiting at the bottom of the steps.
This was the spot from which the noise which he had heard had proceeded.
Within the door, and under the hall lamp, was a noisy group in a stormof gestures and of voices.
Gwynplaine approached in the gloom.
They were quarrelling. On one side there were ten or twelve young lords,who wanted to go out; on the other, a man, with his hat on, likethemselves, upright and with a haughty brow, who barred their passage.
Who was this man? Tom-Jim-Jack.
Some of these lords were still in their robes, others had thrown themoff, and were in their usual attire. Tom-Jim-Jack wore a hat withplumes--not white, like the peers; but green tipped with orange. He wasembroidered and laced from head to foot, had flowing bows of ribbon andlace round his wrists and neck, and was feverishly fingering with hisleft hand the hilt of the sword which hung from his waistbelt, and onthe billets and scabbard of which were embroidered an admiral's anchors.
It was he who was speaking and addressing the young lords; andGwynplaine overheard the following:--
"I have told you you are cowards. You wish me to withdraw my words. Beit so. You are not cowards; you are idiots. You all combined against oneman. That was not cowardice. All right. Then it was stupidity. He spoketo you, and you did not understand him. Here, the old are hard ofhearing, the young devoid of intelligence. I am one of your own order toquite sufficient extent to tell you the truth. This new-comer isstrange, and he has uttered a heap of nonsense, I admit; but amidst allthat nonsense there were some things which were true. His speech wasconfused, undigested, ill-delivered. Be it so. He repeated, 'You know,you know,' too often; but a man who was but yesterday a clown at a faircannot be expected to speak like Aristotle or like Doctor GilbertBurnet, Bishop of Salisbury. The vermin, the lions, the address to theunder-clerks--all that was in bad taste. Zounds! who says it wasn't? Itwas a senseless and fragmentary and topsy-turvy harangue; but here andthere came out facts which were true. It is no small thing to speak evenas he did, seeing it is not his trade. I should like to see you do it.Yes, you! What he said about the lepers at Burton Lazars is anundeniable fact. Besides, he is not the first man who has talkednonsense. In fine, my lords, I do not like to see many set upon one.Such is my humour; and I ask your lordships' permission to take offence.You have displeased me; I am angry. I am grateful to God for havingdrawn up from the depth of his low existence this peer of England, andfor having given back his inheritance to the heir; and, without heedingwhether it will or will not affect my own affairs, I consider it abeautiful sight to see an insect transformed into an eagle, andGwynplaine into Lord Clancharlie. My lords, I forbid you holding anyopinion but mine. I regret that Lord Lewis Duras should not be here. Ishould like to insult him. My lords, it is Fermain Clancharlie who hasbeen the peer, and you who have been the mountebanks. As to his laugh,it is not his fault. You have laughed at that laugh; men should notlaugh at misfortune. If you think that people cannot laugh at you aswell, you are very much mistaken. You are ugly. You are badly dressed.My Lord Haversham, I saw your mistress the other day; she is hideous--aduchess, but a monkey. Gentlemen who laugh, I repeat that I should liketo hear you try to say four words running! Many men jabber; very fewspeak. You imagine you know something, because you have kept idle termsat Oxford or Cambridge, and because, before being peers of England onthe benches of Westminster, you have been asses on the benches atGonville and Caius. Here I am; and I choose to stare you in the face.You have just been impudent to this new peer. A monster, certainly; buta monster given up to beasts. I had rather be that man than you. I waspresent at the sitting, in my place as a possible heir to a peerage. Iheard all. I have not the right to speak; but I have the right to be agentleman. Your jeering airs annoyed me. When I am angry I would go upto Mount Pendlehill, and pick the cloudberry which brings thethunderbolt down on the gatherer. That is the reason why I have waitedfor you at the door. We must have a few words, for we have arrangementsto make. Did it strike you that you failed a little in respect towardsmyself? My lords, I entertain a firm determination to kill a few of you.All you who are here--Thomas Tufton, Earl of Thanet; Savage, EarlRivers; Charles Spencer, Earl of Sunderland; Laurence Hyde, Earl ofRochester; you Barons, Gray of Rolleston, Cary Hunsdon, Escrick,Rockingham, little Carteret; Robert Darcy, Earl of Holderness; William,Viscount Hutton; and Ralph, Duke of Montagu; and any who choose--I,David Dirry-Moir, an officer of the fleet, summon, call, and command youto provide yourselves, in all haste, with seconds and umpires, and Iwill meet you face to face and hand to hand, to-night, at once,to-morrow, by day or night, by sunlight or by candlelight, where, when,or how you please, so long as there is two sword-lengths' space; and youwill do well to look to the flints of your pistols and the edges of yourrapiers, for it is my firm intention to cause vacancies in yourpeerages.--Ogle Cavendish, take your measures, and think of your motto,_Cavendo tutus_.--Marmaduke Langdale, you will do well, like yourancestor, Grindold, to order a coffin to be brought with you.--GeorgeBooth, Earl of Warrington, you will never again see the County Palatineof Chester, or your labyrinth like that of Crete, or the high towers ofDunham Massy!--As to Lord Vaughan, he is young enough to talkimpertinently, and too old to answer for it. I shall demand satisfactionfor his words of his nephew Richard Vaughan, Member of Parliament forthe Borough of Merioneth.--As for you, John Campbell, Earl of Greenwich,I will kill you as Achon killed Matas; but with a fair cut, and not frombehind, it being my custom to present my heart and not my back to thepoint of the sword.--I have spoken my mind, my lords. And so usewitchcraft if you like. Consult the fortune-tellers. Grease your skinswith ointments and drugs to make them invulnerable; hang round yournecks charms of the devil or the Virgin. I will fight you blest orcurst, and I will not have you searched to see if you are wearing anywizard's tokens. On foot or on horseback, on the highroad if you wishit, in Piccadilly, or at Charing Cross; and they shall take up thepavement for our meeting, as they unpaved the court of the Louvre forthe duel between Guise and Bassompierre. All of you! Do you hear? I meanto fight you all.--Dorme, Earl of Caernarvon, I will make you swallow mysword up to the hilt, as Marolles did to Lisle Mariveaux, and then weshall see, my lord, whether you will laugh or not.--You, Burlington, wholook like a girl of seventeen--you shall choose between the lawn of yourhouse in Middlesex, and your beautiful garden at Londesborough inYorkshire, to be buried in.--I beg to inform your lordships that it doesnot suit me to allow your insolence in my presence. I will chastise you,my lords. I take it ill that you should have ridiculed Lord FermainClancharlie. He is worth more than you. As Clancharlie, he has nobility,which you have; as Gwynplaine, he has intellect, which you have not. Imake his cause my cause, insult to him insult to me, and your ridiculemy wrath. We shall see who will come out of this affair alive, because Ichallenge you to the death. Do you understand? With any arm, in anyfashion, and you shall choose the death that pleases you best; and sinceyou are clowns as well as gentlemen, I proportion my defiance to yourqua
lities, and I give you your choice of any way in which a man can bekilled, from the sword of the prince to the fist of the blackguard."
To this furious onslaught of words the whole group of young noblemenanswered by a smile. "Agreed," they said.
"I choose pistols," said Burlington.
"I," said Escrick, "the ancient combat of the lists, with the mace andthe dagger."
"I," said Holderness, "the duel with two knives, long and short,stripped to the waist, and breast to breast."
"Lord David," said the Earl of Thanet, "you are a Scot. I choose theclaymore."
"I the sword," said Rockingham.
"I," said Duke Ralph, "prefer the fists; 'tis noblest."
Gwynplaine came out from the shadow. He directed his steps towards himwhom he had hitherto called Tom-Jim-Jack, but in whom now, however, hebegan to perceive something more. "I thank you," said he, "but this ismy business."
Every head turned towards him.
Gwynplaine advanced. He felt himself impelled towards the man whom heheard called Lord David--his defender, and perhaps something nearer.Lord David drew back.
"Oh!" said he. "It is you, is it? This is well-timed. I have a word foryou as well. Just now you spoke of a woman who, after having loved LordLinnaeus Clancharlie, loved Charles II."
"It is true."
"Sir, you insulted my mother."
"Your mother!" cried Gwynplaine. "In that case, as I guessed, we are--"
"Brothers," answered Lord David, and he struck Gwynplaine. "We arebrothers," said he; "so we can fight. One can only fight one's equal;who is one's equal if not one's brother? I will send you my seconds;to-morrow we will cut each other's throats."
BOOK THE NINTH.
_IN RUINS._