CHAPTER IX

THE DUEL

He was a self-important, incompetent fellow; I could see that, and so

just the man for our purpose. I had impressed upon Von Lindheim that

his life depended on his playing his part well, and I must say there

was no fault to be found with his performance. He appeared to be in

great agony, while Szalay and I, with a great show of excitement and

distress, told the doctor a plausible tale of the sudden seizure.

Finally, I laid stress upon the suddenness of the attack in perfect

health, and suggested ptomaine poisoning.

"Assuredly," the fellow returned, well pleased at finding himself taken

for rather more than even he pretended to be. "The symptoms certainly

point to the presence of poisonous matter in the system, and we must,

at all events, take measures to counteract it."

Accordingly he did take measures, which the patient in turn took good

care to neutralize. The doctor was so fussy and stupid that we found no

difficulty in contriving that he should not make an examination which

might have betrayed, even to him, the real state of the case.

Presently he bustled off to prepare a draught. I offered to accompany

him to his house, and hurry back with the potion, so that it might be

given without delay. As I opened the door to go out a young fellow came

up, an officer by his uniform, and asked for Von Lindheim. I guessed

at once that he was the second of the fire-eating Captain de Hayn, and

rejoiced that he had arrived at that moment.

I saluted him punctiliously. "Herr von Lindheim has, I regret to say,

been taken ill, dangerously ill. It is impossible for you to see him."

As I expected, the young fellow gave an incredulous smile.

"Really, sir? My----"

I cut him short. "Here is the doctor, who will confirm what I tell you.

You know Dr. Rothmer?"

He did not know Dr. Rothmer, but happily that good man's profession was

unmistakable.

"It is indeed the case," he said pompously. "Herr von Lindheim is

seriously ill. I cannot allow you to see him."

"If you will step in for a moment," I said, "I will tell Herr von

Lindheim that you are here, and will follow you, doctor, directly." The

professional was bustled off, and I took Lieutenant Paulssen into the

dining-room.

"I presume you have called to see Von Lindheim about the affair in

which he is acting for Herr Szalay. Von Lindheim has only just asked

me to inform Herr Szalay of his illness, and to request him to find

another second. But I hope, Lieutenant, your visit may be to say that

it is unnecessary; that this deplorable, this absurd affair is at an

end."

The young fellow seemed to bristle with resentful importance.

"Pardon!" he returned uncompromisingly; "that is by no means my

mission. And I must request you, sir, to refrain from referring to an

insult to our army as absurd."

I changed my tone to one of easy familiarity.

"Of course, Lieutenant, my expression absurd was very far from being

applied to the honour of your corps, which I am sure you, as a gallant

soldier, hold above everything in the world. What I meant was the idea

of poor Szalay measuring swords with so renowned a fighter as your

principal."

He shrugged his epauletted shoulders. "It is unfortunate," he responded

stiffly. "But Herr Szalay should have remembered that before uttering

words of disrespect concerning Captain de Hayn."

"I understand he has no recollection of having done so; he is ready----"

"Pardon, mein Herr," he interrupted with a formality, brusque in its

uncertain touch, "if I decline to discuss the matter with you."

I bowed. "You have every right to do so."

"We will stand no shuffling," he cried. "I swear I will not eat my

breakfast till the affair has come off. If Herr von Lindheim is ill,

then Herr Szalay must find another friend, or take the consequences."

"No doubt," I replied, "if Von Lindheim's illness continues, Herr

Szalay will find another friend. But you can hardly expect him to do so

by breakfast time."

He twirled his silly little moustache, and put on one of the most

stupidly offensive looks it has ever been my fortune to see on a human

countenance. "You, sir," he said blusteringly, "you seem to be at pains

to champion Herr Szalay; what is there to prevent your acting as his

friend?"

"Only the fact that he has not honoured me by asking me to do so."

"It is absurd, this attempt to play fast and loose," he spluttered.

"We shall not permit it, that I swear. I am surprised that any one

should counsel delay. Delay in an affair of this sort, sir, we hold as

a coward's word. And if you have any regard for your friend's honour

you will see that this business is settled at once. I shall not go to

bed to-night, but shall expect to receive Herr Szalay's friend. That

is my last word; I have a duty to perform. I have the honour, sir. Good

evening."

He made me a bow which was meant, no doubt, to be the quintessence of

military dignity, and clattered from the room. I let him go, seeing

that an appeal to common sense was worse than hopeless. Then I went up,

and gave the two men an account of my interview.

"Clearly," Lindheim said, "even if there had ever been a doubt about

it, this ridiculous duel is simply a trick of the Jaguar's to get rid

of our friend."

"I fear that is certain," I assented.

Szalay had sat in a gloomy silence, and, appreciating his feelings, I

had taken little notice of him. He now rather astonished me by starting

up and exclaiming, "I will fight! I will fight this duel!"

"Better not," I observed laconically.

"Yes, I will!" he repeated, pacing the room in a state of nervous

excitement. "Don't think me mad; it is by far the most sensible course

to take. I have got to die; my life is forfeit; the Jaguar never turns

off from the prey he has marked down. Better a thousand times fall by

a soldier's bullet in open day, when the chances are nominally equal,

than be done to death in secret by one of Rallenstein's butchers.

Yes, my friends, I am resolved; do not try to turn me." For we had

simultaneously began to exclaim against his decision. "Herr Tyrrell, if

you will honour me by standing my friend, it would be a great favour,

the last I shall probably ask of any man; if you will see this Paulssen

and arrange the meeting for as soon after daybreak as possible. I have

the courage now and am in the mood; who knows how long it may last?"

"It is sheer suicide," I remonstrated; "if this De Hayn is a dead shot,

and you----"

He laughed. "I am to die assuredly within the next forty-eight hours."

"Not necessarily!" I objected.

"You are a tower of strength, Herr Tyrrell," he replied wistfully.

"But even you cannot stand against our King Jaguar, and in any event

you will have enough to do to save our friend here. Now will you go to

Paulssen at once? I ask you as a friend."

He was not to be dissuaded, and perhaps both Von Lindheim and I had a

secret feeling that, on his chances, the course he urged had something

to commend it. So, after waiting for a comedy scene with the doctor,

who paid us another fussy visit, during which he nearly succeeded in

making his patient actually swallow a manifestly loathsome draught, I

went off to Lieutenant Paulssen's lodgings and arranged preliminaries

for the meeting which was to take place at daybreak. My pugnacious

friend was sullenly gratified, receiving my communication with a

significant, "It is well."

Having a pretty shrewd idea of the fellow's sense and capabilities, I

wasted no time, but simply and curtly settled the necessary details of

the meeting, and returned to Von Lindheim's.

The rest of the night I spent in coaching my poor principal in the use

of his weapon. I had on his behalf naturally chosen pistols for the

encounter, as giving a rather better chance; with swords he would have

been as a sheep before a butcher.

The poor fellow attended to my instructions in a mechanical, half-dazed

fashion; he was utterly without hope, indeed, clearly in the apathy of

despair. But we did our best to cheer him, and I took pains to impress

upon him one or two wrinkles which might possibly give a slender chance

in his favour.

In the dull grey of a chilly dawn we set out for the place of meeting,

and certainly it was the most disagreeable errand on which I ever

started. On the way my companion tried to talk on different subjects,

even to jest on his situation and its almost certain issue; but it was

all so hideously forced as a cover to his despair, that it would have

been far less painful to me had he kept silence.

The rendezvous was a short distance outside the city, the less

frequented side of a common bordered by a plantation. Being before

our time we were first on the ground, and I utilized the interval

of waiting in reiterating the instructions I already had given

Szalay; but he was in such a piteous state of nervousness that to

me, as the affair had to be gone through with, it was a relief when

the other party appeared. They were three: De Hayn, Paulssen, and a

professional-looking person, evidently the surgeon whom Paulssen had

arranged to bring.

It seemed as though the sight of the trio and the approach of the

critical moment had the effect of steadying Szalay's nerves somewhat.

"So they have brought the doctor," he laughed; "it is just as well to

do everything in order, even a murder."

"The chances are if he hits you it won't be in a vital part," I said

to comfort him. "Now, mind; take steady aim on the first sight and get

your fire in before his, it's your best chance."

The account given of the fire-eating Captain de Hayn had not been

over-coloured. It seemed impossible that five feet four inches of

humanity could hold a greater quantity of truculent conceit than

was manifestly compressed into his personality. A greater contrast

between this business-like little butcher, with his bronzed--and

brazen--countenance, and poor Szalay, trying to control his shaking

nerves and keep a manly look on his grey face, could not be imagined.

Principals and seconds saluted punctiliously, and the doctor gave

Szalay and me a bow, his expression being nicely differentiated as

between the humane reserve towards a dying patient, and the grave

announcement of a hopeless case to his friends.

Paulssen and I measured the ground, while the doctor, with professional

glib deliberation, set out his case of instruments.

All was ready; we placed our men.

"Bring down your pistol with decision, and fire first," I again

enjoined in a whisper.

If ever a man was sick at the irony and unfairness of life I was then,

as I drew back from that poor fellow, already, as it seemed, half-dead.

Indeed, I remember wondering how he contrived to keep so steady.

I glanced at his dapper little opponent, standing in professional

duellist's style, not the easiest of marks for a good shot; to my man

practically invisible. Paulssen was to give the word; the usual One!

Two! Three! Perhaps he had anticipated my instructions to Szalay as to

firing if possible before his adversary: the usual advice given to a

novice at the game. Anyhow, he made a deliberate pause between One! and

Two! but none between Two! and Three!

The reports appeared to be simultaneous; next I heard Paulssen utter an

oath as he rushed forward to his man, followed by the doctor. As fate

would have it, the unexpected had happened. Szalay was untouched, while

De Hayn, the victor in a dozen encounters, lay prone on the turf with a

bullet through his heart.

The Red Chancellor · 第 9 / 37 章