CHAPTER XI.
_Grim Preparations_
SO MUCH time was occupied by this adventure of the shawl, and by makingrequisite explanations to Mrs. Dallington Vere, that almost the whole ofthe guests had retired, when the Duke found himself again in the saloon.His brother-hosts, too, were off with various parties, to which they hadattached themselves. He found the Fitz-pompeys and a few still lingeringfor their carriages, and Arundel Dacre and his fair admirer. His Gracehad promised to return with Lady Afy, and was devising some schemeby which he might free himself from this, now not very suitable,engagement, when she claimed his arm. She was leaning on it, and talkingto Lady Fitz-pompey, when Sir Lucius approached, and, with his usualtone, put a note into the Duke's hand, saying at the same time, 'Thisappears to belong to you. I shall go to town with Piggott;' and then hewalked away.
With the wife leaning on his arm, the young Duke had the pleasure ofreading the following lines, written with the pencil of the husband:--
'After what has just occurred, only one more meeting can take placebetween us, and the sooner that takes place the better for all parties.This is no time for etiquette. I shall be in Kensington Gardens, in thegrove on the right side of the summer-house, at half-past six to-morrowmorning, and shall doubtless find you there.'
Sir Lucius was not out of sight when the Duke had finished reading hiscartel. Making some confused excuse to Lady Afy, which was not expected,he ran after the Baronet, and soon reached him.
'Grafton, I shall be punctual: but there is one point on which I wish tospeak to you at once. The cause of this meeting may be kept, I hope, asecret?'
'So far as I am concerned, an inviolable one,' bowed the Baronet,stiffly; and they parted.
The Duke returned satisfied, for Sir Lucius Grafton ever observed hisword, to say nothing of the great interest which he surely had this timein maintaining his pledge.
Our hero thought that he never should reach London. The journey seemeda day; and the effort to amuse Lady Afy, and to prevent her fromsuspecting, by his conduct, that anything had occurred, was mostpainful. Silent, however, he at last became; but her mind, too, wasengaged, and she supposed that her admirer was quiet only because, likeherself, he was happy. At length they reached her house, but he excusedhimself from entering, and drove on immediately to Annesley. He was atLady Bloomerly's. Lord Darrell had not returned, and his servant did notexpect him. Lord Squib was never to be found.
The Duke put on a great coat over his uniform and drove to White's; itwas really a wilderness. Never had he seen fewer men there in his life,and there were none of his set. The only young-looking man was oldColonel Carlisle, who, with his skilfully enamelled cheek, flowingauburn locks, shining teeth, and tinted whiskers, might have beenmistaken for gay twenty-seven, instead of grey seventy-two; but theColonel had the gout, to say nothing of any other objections.
The Duke took up the 'Courier' and read three or four advertisementsof quack medicines, but nobody entered. It was nearly midnight: hegot nervous. Somebody came in; Lord Hounslow for his rubber. Even hisfavoured child, Bagshot, would be better than nobody. The Duke protestedthat the next acquaintance who entered should be his second, old oryoung. His vow had scarcely been registered when Arundel Dacre came inalone. He was the last man to whom the Duke wished to address himself,but Fate seemed to have decided it, and the Duke walked up to him.
'Mr. Dacre, I am about to ask of you a favour to which I have no claim.'
Mr. Dacre looked a little confused, and murmured his willingness to doanything.
'To be explicit, I am engaged in an affair of honour of an urgentnature. Will you be my friend?'
'Willingly.' He spoke with more ease. 'May I ask the name of the otherparty, the--the cause of the meeting?'
'The other party is Sir Lucius Grafton.'
'Hum!' said Arundel Dacre, as if he were no longer curious about thecause. 'When do you meet?'
'At half-past six, in Kensington Gardens, to-morrow; I believe I shouldsay this morning.'
'Your Grace must be wearied,' said Arundel, with unusual ease andanimation. 'Now, follow my advice. Go home at once and get some rest.Give yourself no trouble about preparations; leave everything to me.I will call upon you at half-past five precisely, with a chaise andpost-horses, which will divert suspicion. Now, good night!'
'But really, your rest must be considered; and then all this trouble!'
'Oh! I have been in the habit of sitting up all night. Do not think ofme; nor am I quite inexperienced in these matters, in too many of whichI have unfortunately been engaged in Germany.'
The young men shook hands, and the Duke hastened home. Fortunately theBird of Paradise was at her own establishment in Baker Street, a bureauwhere her secretary, in her behalf, transacted business with the variouscourts of Europe and the numerous cities of Great Britain. Here many anegotiation was carried on for opera engagements at Vienna, or Paris,or Berlin, or St. Petersburg. Here many a diplomatic correspondenceconducted the fate of the musical festivals of York, or Norwich, orExeter.
CHAPTER XII.
An Affair of Honour.
LET us return to Sir Lucius Grafton. He is as mad as any man must bewho feels that the imprudence of a moment has dashed the ground all theplans, and all the hopes, and all the great results, over which he hadso often pondered. The great day from which he had expected so much hadpassed, nor was it possible for four-and-twenty hours more completelyto have reversed all his feelings and all his prospects. Miss Dacre hadshared the innocent but unusual and excessive gaiety which had properlybecome a scene of festivity at once so agreeable, so various, and sonovel. Sir Lucius Grafton had not been insensible to the excitement. Onthe contrary his impetuous passions seemed to recall the former andmore fervent days of his career, and his voluptuous mind dangerouslysympathised with the beautiful and luxurious scene. He was elated, too,with the thought that his freedom would perhaps be sealed this evening,and still more by his almost constant attendance on his fascinatingcompanion. As the particular friend of the Dacre family, and as thesecret ally of Mrs. Dallington Vere, he in some manner contrived alwaysto be at Miss Dacre's side. With the laughing but insidious pretencethat he was now almost too grave and staid a personage for such scenes,he conversed with few others, and humourously maintaining that his'dancing days were over,' danced with none but her. Even when herattention was engaged by a third person, he lingered about, and withhis consummate knowledge of the world, easy wit, and constant resources,generally succeeded in not only sliding into the conversation, butengrossing it. Arundel Dacre, too, although that young gentleman had notdeparted from his usual coldness in favour of Sir Lucius Grafton, theBaronet would most provokingly consider as his particular friend; neverseemed to be conscious that his reserved companion was most punctiliousin his address to him; but on the contrary, called him in return'Dacre,' and sometimes 'Arundel.' In vain young Dacre struggled tomaintain his position. His manner was no match for that of Sir LuciusGrafton. Annoyed with himself, he felt confused, and often quitted hiscousin that he might be free of his friend. Thus Sir Lucius Graftoncontrived never to permit Miss Dacre to be alone with Arundel, and toher he was so courteous, so agreeable, and so useful, that his absenceseemed always a blank, or a period in which something ever went wrong.
The triumphant day rolled on, and each moment Sir Lucius felt moresanguine and more excited. We will not dwell upon the advancingconfidence of his desperate mind. Hope expanded into certainty,certainty burst into impatience. In a desperate moment he breathed hispassion.
May Dacre was the last girl to feel at a loss in such a situation. Noone would have rung him out of a saloon with an air of more contemptuousmajesty. But the shock, the solitary strangeness of the scene, thefear, for the first time, that none were near, and perhaps, also, herexhausted energy, frightened her, and she shrieked. One only had heardthat shriek, yet that one was legion. Sooner might the whole world knowthe worst than this person suspect the least. Sir Lucius was left silentwith rage, mad with pass
ion, desperate with hate.
He gasped for breath. Now his brow burnt, now the cold dew ran off hiscountenance in streams. He clenched his fist, he stamped with agony, hefound at length his voice, and he blasphemed to the unconscious woods.
His quick brain flew to the results like lightning. The Duke had escapedfrom his mesh; his madness had done more to win this boy Miss Dacre'sheart than an age of courtship. He had lost the idol of his passion; hewas fixed for ever with the creature of his hate. He loathed the idea.He tottered into the hermitage, and buried his face in his hands.
Something must be done. Some monstrous act of energy must repair thisfatal blunder. He appealed to the mind which had never deserted him. Theoracle was mute. Yet vengeance might even slightly redeem the bitternessof despair. This fellow should die; and his girl, for already he hatedMiss Dacre, should not triumph in her minion. He tore a leaf from histablets, and wrote the lines we have already read.
The young Duke reached home. You expect, of course, that he sat up allnight making his will and answering letters. By no means. The firstobject that caught his eye was an enormous ottoman. He threw himselfupon it without undressing, and without speaking a word to Luigi, andin a moment was fast asleep. He was fairly exhausted. Luigi stared, andcalled Spiridion to consult. They agreed that they dare not go to bed,and must not leave their lord; so they played ecarte, till at last theyquarrelled and fought with the candles over the table. But even this didnot wake their unreasonable master; so Spiridion threw down a few chairsby accident; but all in vain. At half-past five there was a knocking atthe gate, and they hurried away.
Arundel Dacre entered with them, woke the Duke, and praised him for hispunctuality. His Grace thought that he had only dozed a few minutes; buttime pressed; five minutes arranged his toilet, and they were first onthe field.
In a moment Sir Lucius and Mr. Piggott appeared. Arundel Dacre, on theway, had anxiously enquired as to the probability of reconciliation, butwas told at once it was impossible, so now he measured the ground andloaded the pistols with a calmness which was admirable. They fired atonce; the Duke in the air, and the Baronet in his friend's side. WhenSir Lucius saw his Grace fall his hate vanished. He ran up with realanxiety and unfeigned anguish.
'Have I hit you? by h-ll!'
His Grace was magnanimous, but the case was urgent. A surgeon gave afavourable report, and extracted the ball on the spot. The Duke wascarried back to his chaise, and in an hour was in the state bed, not ofthe Alhambra, but of his neglected mansion.
Arundel Dacre retired when he had seen his friend home, but gave urgentcommands that he should be kept quiet. No sooner was the second outof sight than the principal ordered the room to be cleared, with theexception of Spiridion, and then, rising in his bed, wrote this note,which the page was secretly to deliver.
'----House, ----, 182-.
'Dear Miss Dacre,
'A very unimportant but somewhat disagreeable incident has occurred.I have been obliged to meet Sir Lucius Grafton, and our meeting hasfortunately terminated without any serious consequences. Yet I wish thatyou should hear of this first from me, lest you might imagine that I hadnot redeemed my pledge of last night, and that I had placed for a momentmy own feelings in competition with yours. This is not the case, andnever shall be, dear Miss Dacre, with one whose greatest pride is tosubscribe himself
'Your most obedient and faithful servant,
'St. James.'