The O'Ruddy: A Romance

  CHAPTER VIII

  As the door closed upon Forister, Colonel Royale beat his handpassionately against the wall. "O'Ruddy," he cried, "if you couldseverely maim that cold-blooded bully, I would be willing to adopt youas my legitimate grandfather. I would indeed."

  "Never fear me," said I. "I shall pink him well."

  "Aye," said my friend, looking at me mournfully, "I ever feared yourIrish light-heartedness. 'Twill not do to be confident. He is an evilman, but a great swordsman. Now I never liked Ponsonby, and Stewartwas the most lovable of men; but in the great duel Ponsonby killed--"

  "No," I interrupted, "damn the duel between Ponsonby and Stewart. I'msick of it. This is to be the duel between The O'Ruddy and Forister,and it won't be like the other."

  "Eh, well," said the Colonel good-naturedly; "make your mind easy. ButI hope to God you lay him flat."

  "After I have finished with him," said I in measured tones, "he willbe willing to sell himself as a sailor to go to the Indies; only, poordevil, he won't be able to walk, which is always a drawback after ahard fight, since it leaves one man incapable on the ground and thusdiscloses strong evidence of a struggle."

  I could see that Colonel Royale had no admiration for my bragging air,but how otherwise was I to keep up my spirits? With all mydiscouragements it seemed to me that I was privileged to do a littlefine lying. Had my father been in my place, he would have liedForister into such a corner that the man would be thinking that he hadthe devil for an opponent. My father knew more about such matters.

  Still I could not help but be thinking how misfortunate it was that Ihad kicked a great swordsman out of this inn at Bristol when he mighthave been a harmless shoemaker if I had only decent luck. I must makethe best of it, and for this my only method was to talk loudly,--tomyself, if need be; to others if I could. I was not the kind that isquite unable to say a good word for itself even if I was not able tolie as well as my father in his prime. In his day he could lie thecoat off a man's back, or the patches off a lady's cheek, and he couldlie a good dog into howling ominously. Still it was my duty to lie aswell as I was able.

  After a time Lord Strepp was announced and entered. Both he andColonel Royale immediately stiffened and decided not to perceive eachother. "Sir," said Lord Strepp to me, "I have the honour to present mycompliments to you, and to request that you join a friend of mine, Mr.Forister, at dawn to-morrow, in the settlement of a certain smallmisunderstanding."

  "Sir," said I, in the same manner, "I am only too happy to have thislittle matter adjusted."

  "And of course the arrangements, sir?"

  "For them I may refer you to my friend Colonel Royale."

  "Ah," said the young Lord, as if he had never before seen the Colonel.

  "I am at your service, sir," said Colonel Royale as if he never in hiswhole life had heard of Lord Strepp.

  Then these two began to salaam one another, and mouth out foolphrases, and cavort and prance and caracole, until I thought them mad.When they departed there was a dreadful scene. Each refused to gothrough the door before the other. There was a frightful deadlock.They each bowed and scraped and waved their hands, and surrendered thedoorway back and forth, until I thought they were to be in my chambereternally. Lord Strepp gorgeously presented the right of way toColonel Royale, and the Colonel gorgeously presented the right of wayto Lord Strepp. All this time they were bending their backs at eachother.

  Finally I could stand it no longer. "In God's name," I shouted, "thedoor is wide enough for the two of you. Take it together. You will gothrough like grease. Never fear the door. 'Tis a good wide door."

  To my surprise, they turned to glance at me and burst into greatlaughter. Then they passed out amiably enough together. I was alone.

  Well, the first thing I did was to think. I thought with all my force.I fancied the top of my skull was coming off. I thought myself intoten thousand intricacies. I thought myself into doom and out of it,and behind it and below it, but I could not think of anything whichwas of service to me. It seemed that I had come among a lot ofmummers, and one of these mummers was resolved to kill me, although Ihad never even so much as broken his leg. But I remembered my father'sword, who had told me that gentlemen should properly kill each otherover a matter of one liking oranges and the other not liking oranges.It was the custom among men of position, he had said, and of course away was not clear to changing this custom at the time. However, Idetermined that if I lived I would insist upon all these customs beingmoderated and re-directed. For my part I was willing that any manshould like oranges.

  I decided that I must go for a walk. To sit and gloom in my room untilthe time of the great affair would do me no good in any case. In factit was likely to do me much harm. I went forth to the garden in therear of the inn. Here spread a lawn more level than a ballroom floor.There was a summer-house and many beds of flowers. On this day therewas nobody abroad in the garden but an atrocious parrot, which,balancing on its stick, called out continually raucous cries in aforeign tongue.

  I paced the lawn for a time, and then took a seat in the summer-house.I had been there but a moment when I perceived Lady Mary and theCountess come into the garden. Through the leafy walls of thesummer-house I watched them as they walked slowly to and fro on thegrass. The mother had evidently a great deal to say to the daughter.She waved her arms and spoke with a keen excitement.

  But did I overhear anything? I overheard nothing! From what I knew ofthe proper conduct of the really thrilling episodes of life I judgedthat I should have been able to overhear almost every word of thisconversation. Instead, I could only see the Countess making irritatedspeech to Lady Mary.

  Moreover it was legitimate that I should have been undetected in thesummer-house. On the contrary, they were perfectly aware that therewas somebody there, and so in their promenade they presented it with adistinguished isolation.

  No old maid ever held her ears so wide open. But I could hear nothingbut a murmur of angry argument from the Countess and a murmur ofgentle objection from Lady Mary. I was in possession of an ideal placefrom which to overhear conversation. Almost every importantconversation ever held had been overheard from a position of thiskind. It seemed unfair that I, of all men in literature, should bedenied this casual and usual privilege.

  The Countess harangued in a low voice at great length; Lady Maryanswered from time to time, admitting this and admitting that,protesting against the other. It seemed certain to me that talkrelated to Forister, although I had no real reason for thinking it.And I was extremely angry that the Countess of Westport and herdaughter, Lady Mary Strepp, should talk of Forister.

  Upon my indignant meditations the parrot interpolated:

  "Ho, ho!" it cried hoarsely. "A pretty lady! A pretty lady! A prettylady! A pretty lady!--"

  Lady Mary smiled at this vacuous repetition, but her mother went intoa great rage, opening her old jaws like a maddened horse. "Here,landlord! Here, waiter! Here, anybody!"

  So people came running from the inn, and at their head was, trulyenough, the landlord. "My lady," he cried panting.

  She pointed an angry and terrible finger at the parrot. "When I walkin this garden, am I to be troubled with this wretched bird?"

  The landlord almost bit the turf while the servants from the inngrovelled near him. "My lady," he cried, "the bird shall be removed atonce." He ran forward. The parrot was chained by its leg to a tallperch. As the innkeeper came away with the entire business, the parrotbegan to shout: "Old harridan! Old harridan! Old harridan!" Theinnkeeper seemed to me to be about to die of wild terror. It was adreadful moment. One could not help but feel sorry for this poorwretch, whose sole offence was that he kept an inn and also chose tokeep a parrot in his garden.

  The Countess sailed grandly toward the door of the hotel. To thesolemn protestations of six or seven servants she paid no heed. At thedoor she paused and turned for the intimate remark. "I cannot endureparrots," she said impressively. To this dictum the menials crouched.

  The servants
departed: the garden was now empty save for Lady Mary andme. She continued a pensive strolling. Now, I could see plainly thathere fate had arranged for some kind of interview. The whole thing wasset like a scene in a theatre. I was undoubtedly to emerge suddenlyfrom the summer-house; the lovely maid would startle, blush, cast downher eyes, turn away. Then, when it came my turn, I would doff my hatto the earth and beg pardon for continuing a comparatively futileexistence. Then she would slyly murmur a disclaimer of any ability tocriticise my continuation of a comparatively futile existence, addingthat she was but an inexperienced girl. The ice thus being broken, wewould travel by easy stages into more intimate talk.

  I looked down carefully at my apparel and flecked a handkerchief overit. I tilted my hat; I set my hip against my harbour. A moment ofindecision, of weakness, and I was out of the summer-house. God knowshow I hoped that Lady Mary would not run away.

  But the moment she saw me she came swiftly to me. I almost lost mywits.

  "'Tis the very gentleman I wished to see," she cried. She wasblushing, it is true, but it was evident she intended to say nothingabout inexperience or mere weak girls. "I wished to see you because--"she hesitated and then rapidly said: "It was about the papers. Iwanted to thank you--I--you have no notion how happy the possession ofthe papers has made my father. It seemed to have given him new life.I--I saw you throw your sword on the floor with the hilt away fromyou. And--and then you gave me the papers. I knew you were a gallantgentleman."

  All this time, I, in my confusion, was bobbing and murmuring pledgesof service. But if I was confused, Lady Mary was soon cool enough inthe presence of a simple bog-trotter like me. Her beautiful eyeslooked at me reflectively.

  "There is only one service I can render you, sir," said she softly."'Tis advice which would have been useful in saving some men's livesif only they had received it. I mean--don't fight with Forister in themorning. 'Tis certain death."

  It was now my turn once more. I drew myself up, and for the first timeI looked squarely into her bright eyes.

  "My lady," said I, with mournful dignity, "I was filled with pridewhen you said the good word to me. But what am I to think now? Am I,after all, such a poor stick that, to your mind, I could be advised tosell my honour for a mere fear of being killed?"

  Even then I remembered my one-time decision to run away from the duelwith Forister; but we will not be thinking of that now.

  Tears came into Lady Mary's eyes. "Ah, now, I have blundered," shesaid. "'Tis what you would say, sir. 'Tis what you would do. I haveonly made matters worse. A woman's meddling often results in thedestruction of those she--those she don't care to have killed."

  One would think from the look of this last sentence, that with certainreason I could have felt somewhat elated without being altogether afool. Lady Mary meant nothing of importance by her speech, but it wasa little bit for a man who was hungry to have her think of him. Buthere I was assailed by a very demon of jealousy and distrust. Thisbeautiful witch had some plan in her head which did not concern mywelfare at all. Why should she, a great lady, take any trouble for apoor devil who was living at an inn on money borrowed from ahighwayman. I had been highly honoured by an indifferentconsideration born of a wish to be polite to a man who had eased themind of her father. No; I would not deceive myself.

  But her tears! Were they marking indifferent consideration? For asecond I lost myself in a roseate impossible dream. I dreamed that shehad spoken to me because she--

  Oh, what folly! Even as I dreamed, she turned to me with splendidcarriage, and remarked coldly:

  "I did not wish you to suppose that I ever failed to pay a debt. Ihave paid this one. Proceed now, sir, in your glowing stupidity. Ihave done."

  When I recovered myself she was placidly moving away from me towardthe door of the inn.