CHAPTER XI. THE CHALLENGE
Rebuke awaited Captain Tremayne at the hands of Lady O'Moy, and it cameas soon as they were alone together sauntering in the thicket of pineand cork-oak on the slope of the hill below the terrace.
"How thoughtless of you, Ned, to provoke Count Samoval at such a time asthis!"
"Did I provoke him? I thought it was the Count himself who wasprovoking." Tremayne spoke lightly.
"But suppose anything were to happen to you? You know the man's dreadfulreputation."
Tremayne looked at her kindly. This apparent concern for himself touchedhim. "My dear Una, I hope I can take care of myself, even against soformidable a fellow; and after all a man must take his chances a soldierespecially."
"But what of Dick?" she cried. "Do you forget that he is dependingentirely upon you--that if you should fail him he will be lost?" Andthere was something akin to indignation in the protesting eyes sheturned upon him.
For a moment Tremayne was so amazed that he was at a loss for an answer.Then he smiled. Indeed his inclination was to laugh outright. Thefrank admission that her concern which he had fondly imagined to befor himself was all for Dick betrayed a state of mind that was entirelytypical of Una. Never had she been able to command more than one pointof view of any question, and that point of view invariably of her owninterest. All her life she had been accustomed to sacrifices great andsmall made by others on her own behalf, until she had come to look uponsuch sacrifices her absolute right.
"I am glad you reminded me," he said with an irony that never touchedher. "You may depend upon me to be discreetness itself, at least untilafter Dick has been safely shipped."
"Thank you, Ned. You are very good to me." They sauntered a little wayin silence. Then: "When does Captain Glennie sail?" she asked him. "Isit decided yet?"
"Yes. I have just heard from him that the Telemachus will put to sea onSunday morning at two o'clock."
"At two o'clock in the morning! What an uncomfortable hour!"
"Tides, as King Canute discovered, are beyond mortal control. TheTelemachus goes out with the ebb. And, after all, for our purposessurely no hour could be more suitable. If I come for Dick at midnighttomorrow that will just give us time to get him snugly aboard before shesails. I have made all arrangements with Glennie. He believes Dick tobe what he has represented himself--one of Bearsley's overseers namedJenkinson, who is a friend of mine and who must be got out of thecountry quietly. Dick should thank his luck for a good deal. My chiefanxiety was lest his presence here should be discovered by any one."
"Beyond Bridget not a soul knows that he is here not even Sylvia."
"You have been the soul of discreetness."
"Haven't I?" she purred, delighted to have him discover a virtue sounusual in her.
Thereafter they discussed details; or, rather, Tremayne discussed them.He would come up to Monsanto at twelve o'clock to-morrow night in acurricle in which he would drive Dick down to the river at a point wherea boat would be waiting to take him out to the Telemachus. She must seethat Dick was ready in time. The rest she could safely leave to him. Hewould come in through the official wing of the building. The guard wouldadmit him without question, accustomed to seeing him come and go atall hours, nor would it be remarked that he was accompanied by a manin civilian dress when he departed. Dick was to be let down fromher ladyship's balcony to the quadrangle by a rope ladder with whichTremayne would come equipped, having procured it for the purpose fromthe Telemachus.
She hung upon his arm, overwhelming him now with her gratitude, herparasol sheltering them both from the rays of the sun as they emergedfrom the thicket intro the meadowland in full view of the terrace whereCount Samoval and Sir Terence were at that moment talking earnestlytogether.
You will remember that O'Moy had undertaken to provide that CountSamoval's visits to Monsanto should be discontinued. About this taskhe had gone with all the tact of which he had boasted himself master toColquhoun Grant. You shall judge of the tact for yourself. No sooner hadthe colonel left for Lisbon, and Carruthers to return to his work, than,finding himself alone with the Count, Sir Terence considered the momenta choice one in which to broach the matter.
"I take it ye're fond of walking, Count," had been his singular openingmove. They had left the table by now, and were sauntering together onthe terrace.
"Walking?" said Samoval. "I detest it."
"And is that so? Well, well! Of course it's not so very far from yourplace at Bispo."
"Not more than half-a-league, I should say."
"Just so," said O'Moy. "Half-a-league there, and half-a-league back: aleague. It's nothing at all, of course; yet for a gentleman who detestswalking it's a devilish long tramp for nothing."
"For nothing?" Samoval checked and looked at his host in faint surprise.Then he smiled very affably. "But you must not say that, Sir Terence. Iassure you that the pleasure of seeing yourself and Lady O'Moy cannot bespoken of as nothing."
"You are very good." Sir Terence was the very quintessence ofcourtliness, of concern for the other. "But if there were not thatpleasure?"
"Then, of course, it would be different." Samoval was beginning to beslightly intrigued.
"That's it," said Sir Terence. "That's just what I'm meaning."
"Just what you're meaning? But, my dear General, you are assumingcircumstances which fortunately do not exist."
"Not at present, perhaps. But they might."
Again Samoval stood still and looked at O'Moy. He found something in thebronzed, rugged face that was unusually sardonic. The blue eyes seemedto have become hard, and yet there were wrinkles about their cornerssuggestive of humour that might be mockery. The Count stiffened; butbeyond that he preserved his outward calm whilst confessing that he didnot understand Sir Terence's meaning.
"It's this way," said Sir Terence. "I've noticed that ye're not lookingso very well lately, Count."
"Really? You think that?" The words were mechanical. The dark eyescontinued to scrutinise that bronzed face suspiciously.
"I do, and it's sorry I am to see it. But I know what it is. It's thiswalking backwards and forwards between here and Bispo that's doing themischief. Better give it up, Count. Better not come toiling up here anymore. It's not good for your health. Why, man, ye're as white as a ghostthis minute."
He was indeed, having perceived at last the insult intended. To bedenied the house at such a time was to checkmate his designs, to set aterm upon his crafty and subtle espionage, precisely in the season whenhe hoped to reap its harvest. But his chagrin sprang not at all fromthat. His cold anger was purely personal. He was a gentleman--of thefine flower, as he would have described himself--of the nobility ofPortugal; and that a probably upstart Irish soldier--himself, fromSamoval's point of view, a guest in that country--should deny him hishouse, and choose such terms of ill-considered jocularity in which to doit, was an affront beyond all endurance.
For a moment passion blinded him, and it was only by an effort that herecovered and kept his self-control. But keep it he did. You may trustyour practised duellist for that when he comes face to face with thenecessity to demand satisfaction. And soon the mist of passion clearingfrom his keen wits, he sought swiftly for a means to fasten the quarrelupon Sir Terence in Sir Terence's own coin of galling mockery. Instantlyhe found it. Indeed it was not very far to seek. O'Moy's jealousy, whichwas almost a byword, as we know, had been apparent more than once toSamoval. Remembering it now, it discovered to him at once Sir Terence'smost vulnerable spot, and cunningly Samoval proceeded to gall him there.
A smile spread gradually over his white face--a smile of immeasurablemalice.
"I am having a very interesting and instructive morning in thisatmosphere of Irish boorishness," said he. "First Captain Tremayne--"
"Now don't be after blaming old Ireland for Tremayne's shortcomings.Tremayne's just a clumsy mannered Englishman."
"I am glad to know there is a distinction. Indeed I might have perceivedit for myself. In motives, of co
urse, that distinction is great indeed,and I hope that I am not slow to discover it, and in your case to excuseit. I quite understand and even sympathise with your feelings, General."
"I am glad of that now," said Sir Terence, who had understood nothing ofall this.
"Naturally," the Count pursued on a smooth, level note of amiability,"when a man, himself no longer young, commits the folly of taking ayoung and charming wife, he is to be forgiven when a natural anxietydrives him to lengths which in another might be resented." He bowedbefore the empurpling Sir Terence.
"Ye're a damned coxcomb, it seems," was the answering roar.
"Of course you would assume it. It was to be expected. I condone it withthe rest. And because I condone it, because I sympathise with what in aman of your age and temperament must amount to an affliction, I hastento assure you upon my honour that so far as I am concerned there are nogrounds for your anxiety."
"And who the devil asks for your assurances? It's stark mad ye are tosuppose that I ever needed them."
"Of course you must say that," Samoval insisted, with a confident andsuperior smile. He shook his head, his expression one of amused sorrow."Sir Terence, you have knocked at the wrong door. You are youthfulat least in your impulsiveness, but you are surely as blind as oldPantaloon in the comedy or you would see where your industry would bebetter employed in shielding your wife's honour and your own."
Goaded to fury, his blue eyes aflame now with passion, Sir Terenceconsidered the sleek and subtle gentleman before him, and it was inthat moment that the Count's subtlety soared to its finest heights. In aflash of inspiration he perceived the advantages to be drawn by himselffrom conducting this quarrel to extremes.
This is not mere idle speculation. Knowledge of the real motivesactuating him rests upon the evidence of a letter which Samoval wasto write that same evening to La Fleche--afterwards to bediscovered--wherein he related what had passed, how deliberately he hadsteered the matter, and what he meant to do. His object was no longerthe punishing of an affront. That would happen as a mere incident, athing done, as it were, in passing. His real aim now was to obtainthe keys of the adjutant's strong-box, which never left Sir Terence'sperson, and so become possessed of the plans of the lines of TorresVedras. When you consider in the light of this the manner in whichSamoval proceeded now you will admire with me at once the opportunismand the subtlety of the man.
"You'll be after telling me exactly what you mean," Sir Terence hadsaid.
It was in that moment that Tremayne and Lady O'Moy came arm in arminto the open on the hill-side, half-a-mile away--very close andconfidential. They came most opportunely to the Count's need, and heflung out a hand to indicate them to Sir Terence, a smile of pity on hislips.
"You need but to look to take the answer for yourself," said he.
Sir Terence looked, and laughed. He knew the secret of Ned Tremayne'sheart and could laugh now with relish at that which hitherto had lefthim darkly suspicious.
"And who shall blame Lady O'Moy?" Count Samoval pursued. "A ladyso charming and so courted must seek her consolation for the almostunnatural union Fate has imposed upon her. Captain Tremayne is of herown age, convenient to her hand, and for an Englishman not ill-looking."
He smiled at O'Moy with insolent compassion, and O'Moy, losing all hisself-control, struck him slapped him resoundingly upon the cheek.
"Ye're a dirty liar, Samoval, a muck-rake," said he.
Samoval stepped back, breathing hard, one cheek red, the other white.Yet by a miracle he still preserved his self-control.
"I have proved my courage too often," he said, "to be under thenecessity of killing you for this blow. Since my honour is safe I willnot take advantage of your overwrought condition."
"Ye'll take advantage of it whether ye like it or not," blazed SirTerence at him. "I mean you to take advantage of it. D' ye think I'llsuffer any man to cast a slur upon Lady O'Moy? I'll be sending myfriends to wait on you to-day, Count; and--by God!--Tremayne himselfshall be one of them."
Thus did the hot-headed fellow deliver himself into the hands of hisenemy. Nor was he warned when he saw the sudden gleam in Samoval's darkeyes.
"Ha!" said the Count. It was a little exclamation of wickedsatisfaction. "You are offering me a challenge, then?"
"If I may make so bold. And as I've a mind to shoot you dead--"
"Shoot, did you say?" Samoval interrupted gently.
"I said 'shoot'--and it shall be at ten paces, or across a handkerchief,or any damned distance you please."
The Count shook his head. He sneered. "I think not--not shoot." And hewaved the notion aside with a hand white and slender as a woman's. "Thatis too English, or too Irish. The pistol, I mean--appropriately a fool'sweapon." And he explained himself, explained at last his extraordinaryforbearance under a blow. "If you think I have practised the small-swordevery day of my life for ten years to suffer myself to be shot at likea rabbit in the end--ho, really!" He laughed aloud. "You have challengedme, I think, Sir Terence. Because I feared the predilection you havediscovered, I was careful to wait until the challenge came from you. Thechoice of weapons lies, I think, with me. I shall instruct my friends toask for swords."
"Sorry a difference will it make to me," said Sir Terence. "Anythingfrom a horsewhip to a howitzer." And then recollection descending like acold hand upon him chilled his hot rage, struck the fine Irish arroganceall out of him, and left him suddenly limp. "My God!" he said, andit was almost a groan. He detained Samoval, who had already turned todepart. "A moment, Count," he cried. "I--I had forgotten. There is thegeneral order--Lord Wellington's enactment."
"Awkward, of course," said Samoval, who had never for a moment beenoblivious of that enactment, and who had been carefully building uponit. "But you should have considered it before committing yourself soirrevocably."
Sir Terence steadied himself. He recovered his truculence. "Irrevocableor not, it will just have to be revocable. The meeting's impossible."
"I do not see the impossibility. I am not surprised you should shelteryourself behind an enactment; but you will remember this enactment doesnot apply to me, who am not a soldier."
"But it applies to me, who am not only a soldier, but theAdjutant-General here, the man chiefly responsible for seeing the ordercarried out. It would be a fine thing if I were the first to disregardit."
"I am afraid it is too late. You have disregarded it already, sir."
"How so?"
"The letter of the law is against sending or receiving a challenge, Ithink."
O'Moy was distracted. "Samoval," he said, drawing himself up, "I willadmit that I have been a fool. I will apologise to you for the blow andfor the word that accompanied it."
"The apology would imply that my statement was a true one and that yourecognised it. If you mean that--"
"I mean nothing of the kind. Damme! I've a mind to horsewhip you, andleave it at that. D' ye think I want to face a firing party on youraccount?"
"I don't think there is the remotest likelihood of any suchcontingency," replied Samoval.
But O'Moy went headlong on. "And another thing. Where will I be findinga friend to meet your friends? Who will dare to act for me in view ofthat enactment?"
The Count considered. He was grave now. "Of course that is adifficulty," he admitted, as if he perceived it now for the first time."Under the circumstances, Sir Terence, and entirely to accommodate you,I might consent to dispense with seconds."
"Dispense with seconds?" Sir Terence was horrified at the suggestion."You know that that is irregular--that a charge of murder would lieagainst the survivor."
"Oh, quite so. But it is for your own convenience that I suggest it,though I appreciate your considerate concern on the score of what mayhappen to me afterwards should it come to be known that I was youropponent."
"Afterwards? After what?"
"After I have killed you."
"And is it like that?" cried O'Moy, his countenance inflaming again, hismind casting all prudence to the w
inds.
It followed, of course, that without further thought for anything butthe satisfaction of his rage Sir Terence became as wax in the hands ofSamoval's desires.
"Where do you suggest that we meet?" he asked.
"There is my place at Bispo. We should be private in the gardens there.As for time, the sooner the better, though for secrecy's sake we hadbetter meet at night. Shall we say at midnight?"
But Sir Terence would agree to none of this.
"To-night is out of the question for me. I have an engagement that willkeep me until late. To-morrow night, if you will, I shall be at yourservice." And because he did not trust Samoval he added, as Samovalhimself had almost reckoned: "But I should prefer not to come to Bispo.I might be seen going or returning."
"Since there are no such scruples on my side, I am ready to come to youhere if you prefer it."
"It would suit me better."
"Then expect me promptly at midnight to-morrow, provided that youcan arrange to admit me without my being seen. You will perceive myreasons."
"Those gates will be closed," said O'Moy, indicating the now gapingmassive doors that closed the archway at night. "But if you knock Ishall be waiting for you, and I will admit you by the wicket."
"Excellent," said Samoval suavely. "Then--until to-morrow night,General." He bowed with almost extravagant submission, and turningwalked sharply away, energy and suppleness in every line of his slightfigure, leaving Sir Terence to the unpleasant, almost desperate,thoughts that reflection must usher in as his anger faded.