CHAPTER IX

  I had better be getting to the story of the duel. I have been hangingback with it long enough, and I shall tell it at once. I remember myfather saying that the most aggravating creature in life was one whowould be keeping back the best part of a story through mere reasons oftrickery, although I have seen himself dawdle over a tale until hisfriends wished to hurl the decanters at him. However, there can be nodoubting of the wisdom of my father's remark. Indeed there can belittle doubting of the wisdom of anything that my father said in life,for he was a very learned man. The fact that my father did notinvariably defer to his own opinions does not alter the truth of thoseopinions in my judgment, since even the greatest of philosophers ismore likely to be living a life based on the temper of his wife andthe advice of his physician than on the rules laid down in his books.Nor am I certain that my father was in a regular habit of delaying astory. I only remember this one incident, wherein he was recounting astirring tale of a fight with a lancer, and just as the lance waswithin an inch of the paternal breast my father was reminded, by asight of the walnuts, that Mickey Clancy was not serving the port withhis usual rapidity, and so he addressed him. I remember the wordswell.

  "Mickey, you spalpeen," said my father, "would you be leaving thegentlemen as dry as the bottom of Moses' feet when he crossed the RedSea? Look at O'Mahoney there! He is as thirsty as a fish in the top ofa tree. And Father Donovan has had but two small quarts, and he nevertakes less than five. Bad luck to you, Mickey, if it was a drink foryour own stomach, you would be moving faster. Are you wishing to ruinmy reputation for hospitality, you rogue you?"

  And my father was going on with Mickey, only that he looked about himat this time and discovered his guests all upon their feet, one withthe tongs and one with the poker, others with decanters ready tothrow.

  "What's this?" said he.

  "The lance," said they.

  "What lance?" said he.

  "The lance of the lancer," said they.

  "And why shouldn't he have a lance?" said my father. "'Faith, 'twouldbe an odd lancer without a lance!"

  By this time they were so angry that Mickey, seeing how things weregoing, and I being a mere lad, took me from the room. I never heardprecisely what happened to the lancer, but he must have had the worstof it, for wasn't my father, seated there at the table, telling thestory long years after?

  Well, as to my duel with Forister: Colonel Royale was an extremelybusy man, and almost tired my life out with a quantity of needlessattentions. For my part, I thought more of Lady Mary and the fact thatshe considered me no more than if I had been a spud. Colonel Royalefluttered about me. I would have gruffly sent him away if it were notthat everything he did was meant in kindliness and generous feeling. Iwas already believing that he did not have more than one brain in hishead, but I could not be ungrateful for his interest and enthusiasm ingetting me out to be hurt correctly. I understood, long yearsafterward, that he and Lord Strepp were each so particular in thenegotiations that no less than eighteen bottles of wine were consumed.

  The morning for the duel dawned softly warm, softly wet, softly foggy.The Colonel popped into my room the moment I was dressed. To mysurprise, he was now quite mournful. It was I, now, who had to do thecheering.

  "Your spirits are low, Colonel?" said I banteringly.

  "Aye, O'Ruddy," he answered with an effort, "I had a bad night, withthe gout. Heaven help this devil from getting his sword into yourbowels."

  He had made the appointment with Strepp, of course, and as we walkedtoward the ground he looked at me very curiously out of the ends ofhis eyes. "You know--ah, you have the honour of the acquaintance ofLady Mary Strepp, O'Ruddy?" said he suddenly and nervously.

  "I have," I answered, stiffening. Then I said: "And you?"

  "Her father and I were friends before either of you were born," hesaid simply. "I was a cornet in his old regiment. Little Lady Maryplayed at the knee of the poor young subaltern."

  "Oh," said I meanly, "you are, then, a kind of uncle."

  "Aye," said he, "a kind of uncle. So much of an uncle," he added withmore energy, "that when she gave me this note I thought much of actinglike a real uncle. From what I have unfortunately overheard, I suspectthat the Earl--aw--disagrees with you on certain points."

  He averted his face as he handed me the note, and eagerly I tore itopen. It was unsigned. It contained but three words: "God spare you!"And so I marched in a tumult of joy to a duel wherein I was expectedto be killed.

  I glanced at the Colonel. His countenance was deeply mournful. "'Tisfor few girls I would become a dove to carry notes between lovers," hesaid gloomily. "Damn you for it, O'Ruddy!"

  "Nay, Colonel," said I. "'Tis no missive of love. Look you!"

  But still he kept his eyes averted. "I judge it was not meant for myeyes," he said, still very gloomy.

  But here I flamed up in wrath:

  "And would the eye of an angel be allowed to rest upon this paper ifit were not fit that it should be so?" I demanded in my anger."Colonel, am I to hear you bleat about doves and lovers when a glanceof your eye will disabuse you? Read!"

  He read. "'God spare you!'" he repeated tenderly. Then he addressed mewith fine candor. "Aye, I have watched her these many years, O'Ruddy.When she was a babe I have seen her in her little bath. When she was asmall girl I have seen her asleep with some trinket clasped in herrosy hand on the coverlet. Since she has been a beautiful young lady Ihave--but no matter. You come along, named nobody, hailing fromnowhere; and she--she sends me out to deliver her prayer that God mayspare you!"

  I was awed by this middle-aged sorrow. But, curse him! when she was ababe he had seen her in her little bath, had he? Damn his eyes! He hadseen the baby naked in her tiny tub? Damn his eyes again! I was insuch a fury that I longed to fight Royale on the spot and kill him,running my sword through his memory so that it would be blotted outforever, and never, never again, even in Paradise, could he recall theimage in the little tub.

  But the Colonel's next words took the rage out of me.

  "Go in, O'Ruddy," he cried heartily. "There is no truer man could winher. As my lady says, 'God spare you!'"

  "And if Forister's blade be not too brisk, I will manage to bespared," I rejoined.

  "Oh, there is another thing touching the matter," said the Colonelsuddenly. "Forister is your chief rival, although I little know whathas passed between them. Nothing important, I think, although I amsure Forister is resolved to have her for a bride. Of that I amcertain. He is resolved."

  "Is he so?" said I.

  I was numb and cold for a moment. Then I slowly began to boil, like akettle freshly placed on the fire. So I was facing a rival? Well, andhe would get such a facing as few men had received. And he was myrival and in the breast of my coat I wore a note--"God spare you!" Ha,ha! He little knew the advantages under which he was to play. Could Ilose with "God spare you!" against my heart? Not against threeForisters!

  But hold! might it not be that the gentle Lady Mary, deprecating thisduel and filled with feelings of humanity, had sent us each a notewith this fervid cry for God to spare us? I was forced to concede itpossible. After all, I perfectly well knew that to Lady Mary I was amere nothing. Royale's words had been so many plumes in my life'shelmet, but at bottom I knew better than to set great store by them.The whole thing was now to hurry to the duelling-ground and see if Icould discover from this black Forister's face if he had received a"God spare you!" I took the Colonel's arm and fairly dragged him.

  "Damme, O'Ruddy!" said he, puffing; "this can be nought but genuineeagerness."

  When we came to the duelling-place we found Lord Strepp and Foristerpacing to and fro, while the top of a near-by wall was crowded withpleasant-minded spectators. "Aye, you've come, have ye, sirs?" calledout the rabble. Lord Strepp seemed rather annoyed, and Colonel Royalegrew red and stepped peremptorily toward the wall, but Forister and Ihad eyes only for each other. His eye for me was a glad, cruel eye. Ihave a dim remembrance of seeing the Colonel take
his scabbard andincontinently beat many worthy citizens of Bristol; indeed, he seemedto beat every worthy citizen of Bristol who had not legs enough to getaway. I could hear them squeaking out protests while I keenly studiedthe jubilant Forister.

  Aye, it was true. He too had a "God spare you!" I felt my blood beginto run hot. My eyes suddenly cleared as if I had been empowered withmiraculous vision. My arm became supple as a whip. I decided upon onething. I would kill Forister.

  I thought the Colonel never would give over chasing citizens, but atlast he returned breathless, having scattered the populace over a widestretch of country. The preliminaries were very simple. In ahalf-minute Forister and I, in our shirts, faced each other.

  And now I passed into such a state of fury that I cannot find words todescribe it; but, as I have said, I was possessed with a remarkableclearness of vision and strength of arm. These phenomena amaze me evenat this day. I was so airy upon my feet that I might have been aspirit. I think great rages work thus upon some natures. Theircompetence is suddenly made manifold. They live, for a brief space,the life of giants. Rage is destruction active. Whenever anything inthis world needs to be destroyed, nature makes somebody wrathful.Another thing that I recall is that I had not the slightest doubt ofmy ability to kill Forister. There were no more misgivings: noquakings. I thought of the impending duel with delight.

  In all my midnight meditations upon the fight I had pictured myself aslying strictly upon the defensive and seeking a chance opportunity todamage my redoubtable opponent. But the moment after our swords hadcrossed I was an absolute demon of attack. My very first lunge madehim give back a long pace. I saw his confident face change to a lookof fierce excitement.

  There is little to say of the flying, spinning blades. It is onlynecessary to remark that Forister dropped almost immediately todefensive tactics before an assault which was not only impetuous butexceedingly brilliant, if I may be allowed to say so. And I know thaton my left a certain Colonel Royale was steadily growing happier.

  The end came with an almost ridiculous swiftness. The feeling of anugly quivering wrench communicated itself from the point of my swordto my mind; I heard Strepp and Royale cry "Hold!" I saw Forister fall;I lowered my point and stood dizzily thinking. My sight was nowblurred; my arm was weak.

  My sword had gone deep into Forister's left shoulder, and the bonesthere had given that hideous feeling of a quivering wrench. He was notinjured beyond repair, but he was in exquisite agony. Before theycould reach him he turned over on his elbows and managed in some wayto fling his sword at me. "Damn your soul!" he cried, and he gave asort of howl as Lord Strepp, grim and unceremonious, bounced him overagain upon his back. In the mean time Colonel Royale was helping me onwith my coat and waistcoat, although I hardly knew that either he orthe coat or waistcoat were in existence.

  I had my usual inclination to go forward and explain to everybody howit all had happened. But Royale took me forcibly by the arm, and weturned our backs on Strepp and Forister and walked toward the inn.

  As soon as we were out of their sight, Colonel Royale clasped my handswith rapture. "My boy," he cried, "you are great! You are renowned!You are illustrious! What a game you could give Ponsonby! You wouldgive him such a stir!"

  "Never doubt me," said I. "But I am now your legitimate grandfather,and I should be treated with great respect."

  When we came near the inn I began to glance up at the windows. Isurely expected to see a face at one of them. Certainly she would careto know who was slain or who was hurt. She would be watching, I fondlyhoped, to see who returned on his legs. But the front of the innstared at us, chilly and vacant, like a prison wall.

  When we entered, the Colonel bawled lustily for an immediate bottle ofwine, and I joined him in its drinking, for I knew that it would be abellows to my flagging spirits. I had set my heart upon seeing a faceat the window of the inn.

 
Stephen Crane and Robert Barr's Novels