CHAPTER VII

When I reached my own chamber I sank heavily into a chair. My brain

was in a tumult. I had fallen in love and arranged to be killed in one

short day's work. I stared at my image in a mirror. Could I be The

O'Ruddy? Perhaps my name was Paddy or Jem Bottles? Could I pick myself

out in a crowd? Could I establish my identification? I little knew.

At first I thought of my calm friend who apparently drank blood for

his breakfast. Colonel Royale to me was somewhat of a stranger, but

his charming willingness to grind the bones of his friends in his

teeth was now quite clear. I fight the best swordsman in England as an

amusement, a show? I began to see reasons for returning to Ireland. It

was doubtful if old Mickey Clancy would be able to take full care of

my estate even with the assistance and prevention of Father Donovan.

All properties looked better while the real owner had his eye on them.

It would be a shame to waste the place at Glandore all for a bit of

pride of staying in England. Never a man neglected his patrimony but

that it didn't melt down to a kick in the breeches and much trouble in

the courts. I perceived, in short, that my Irish lands were in danger.

What could endanger them was not quite clear to my eye, but at any

rate they must be saved. Moreover it was necessary to take quick

measures. I started up from my chair, hastily recounting Jem Bottles's

five guineas.

But I bethought me of Lady Mary. She could hardly be my good fairy.

She was rather too plump to be a fairy. She was not extremely plump,

but when she walked something moved within her skirts. For my part I

think little of fairies, who remind me of roasted fowl's wing. Give me

the less brittle beauty which is not likely to break in a man's arms.

After all, I reflected, Mickey Clancy could take care quite well of

that estate at Glandore; and, if he didn't, Father Donovan would soon

bring him to trouble; and, if Father Donovan couldn't, why, the place

was worth very little any how. Besides, 'tis a very weak man who

cannot throw an estate into the air for a pair of bright eyes.

Aye, and Lady Mary's bright eyes! That was one matter. And there was

Forister's bright sword. That was another matter. But to my

descendants I declare that my hesitation did not endure an instant.

Forister might have an arm so supple and a sword so long that he might

be able to touch the nape of his neck with his own point, but I was

firm on English soil. I would meet him even if he were a _chevaux de

frise_. Little it mattered to me. He might swing the ten arms of an

Indian god; he might yell like a gale at sea; he might be more

terrible in appearance than a volcano in its passions; still I would

meet him.

There was a knock, and at my bidding a servant approached and said: "A

gentleman, Mr. Forister, wishes to see you, sir."

For a moment I was privately in a panic. Should I say that I was ill,

and then send for a doctor to prove that I was not ill? Should I run

straightway and hide under the bed? No!

"Bid the gentleman enter," said I to the servant.

Forister came in smiling, cool and deadly. "Good day to you, Mr.

O'Ruddy," he said, showing me his little teeth. "I am glad to see that

you are not for the moment consorting with highwaymen and other

abandoned characters who might succeed in corrupting your morals, Mr.

O'Ruddy. I have decided to kill you, Mr. O'Ruddy. You may have heard

that I am the finest swordsman in England, Mr. O'Ruddy?"

I replied calmly: "I have heard that you are the finest swordsman in

England, Mr. Forister, whenever better swordsmen have been traveling

in foreign parts, Mr. Forister, and when no visitors of fencing

distinction have taken occasion to journey here, Mr. Forister."

This talk did not give him pleasure, evidently. He had entered with

brave composure, but now he bit his lip and shot me a glance of

hatred. "I only wished to announce," he said savagely, "that I would

prefer to kill you in the morning as early as possible."

"And how may I render my small assistance to you, Mr. Forister? Have

you come to request me to arise at an untimely hour?"

I was very placid; but it was not for him to be coming to my chamber

with talk of killing me. Still, I thought that, inasmuch as he was

there, I might do some good to myself by irritating him slightly. I

continued:

"I to-day informed my friends--"

"Your friends!" said he.

"My friends," said I. "Colonel Royale in this matter."

"Colonel Royale!" said he.

"Colonel Royale," said I. "And if you are bound to talk more you had

best thrust your head from the window and talk to those chimneys

there, which will take far more interest in your speech than I can

work up. I was telling you that to-day I informed my friends--then you

interrupted me. Well, I informed them--but what the devil I informed

them of you will not know very soon. I can promise you, however, it

was not a thing you would care to hear with your hands tied behind

you."

"Here's a cold man with a belly full of ice," said he musingly. "I

have wronged him. He has a tongue on him, he has that. And here I have

been judging from his appearance that he was a mere common dolt. And,

what, Mr. O'Ruddy," he added, "were you pleased to say to the

gentlemen which I would not care to hear with my hands tied behind

me?"

"I told them why you took that sudden trip to Bristol," I answered

softly.

He fairly leaped in a sudden wild rage. "You--told them?" he

stuttered. "You poltroon! 'Twas a coward's work!"

"Be easy," said I, to soothe him. "'Tis no more cowardly than it is

for the best swordsman in England to be fighting the worst swordsman

in Ireland over a matter in which he is entirely in the wrong,

although 'tis not me that cares one way or another way. Indeed, I

prefer you to be in the wrong, you little black pig."

"Stop," said he, with a face as white as milk. "You told them--you

told them about--about the girl at Bristol?"

"What girl at Bristol?" said I innocently. "'Tis not me to be knowing

your wenches in Bristol or otherwheres."

A red flush came into the side of his neck and swelled slowly across

his cheeks. "If you've told them about Nell!"

"Nell?" said I. "Nell? Yes, that's the name. Nell. Yes, Nell. And if I

told them about Nell?"

"Then," he rejoined solemnly, "I shall kill you ten times if I lose my

soul in everlasting hell for it."

"But after I have killed you eleven times I shall go to Bristol and

have some sweet interviews with fair Nell," said I. This sting I

expected to call forth a terrific outburst, but he remained scowling

in dark thought. Then I saw where I had been wrong. This Nell was now

more a shame than a sweetheart, and he was afraid that word had been

passed by me to the brother of--Here was a chance to disturb him.

"When I was making my little joke of you and your flame at Bristol,"

said I thoughtfully, "I believe there were no ladies present. I don't

remember quite. Any how we will let that pass. 'Tis of no

consequence."

And here I got him in full cry. "_God rot you!_" he shrieked. His

sword sprang and whistled in the air.

"Hold," said I, as a man of peace. "'Twould be murder. My weapon is on

the bed, and I am too lazy to go and fetch it. And in the mean time

let me assure you that no word has crossed my lips in regard to Nell,

your Bristol sweetheart, for the very excellent reason that I never

knew of her existence until you yourself told me some moments ago."

Never before had he met a man like me. I thought his under-jaw would

drop on the floor.

"Up to a short time ago," said I candidly, "your indecent amours were

safe from my knowledge. I can be in the way of putting myself as

silent as a turtle when it comes to protecting a man from his folly

with a woman. In fact, I am a gentleman. But," I added sternly, "what

of the child?"

"The child?" he cried jumping. "May hell swallow you! And what may you

know of the child?"

I waved my hand in gentle deprecation of his excitement as I said:

"Peace, Forister; I know nothing of any child. It was only an

observation by a man of natural wit who desired to entertain himself.

And, pray, how old is the infant?"

He breathed heavily. "You are a fiend," he answered. Keeping his eyes

on the floor, he deliberated upon his choice of conduct. Presently he

sheathed his sword and turned with some of his old jauntiness toward

the door. "Very good," said he. "To-morrow we shall know more of our

own affairs."

"True," I replied.

"We shall learn if slyness and treachery are to be defeated by

fair-going and honour."

"True," said I.

"We shall learn if a snake in the grass can with freedom bite the foot

of a lion."

"True," said I.

There was a loud jovial clamour at the door, and at my cry it flew

open. Colonel Royale entered precipitately, beaming with good humour.

"O'Ruddy, you rascal," he shouted, "I commanded you to take much rest,

and here I find--" He halted abruptly as he perceived my other

visitor. "And here I find," he repeated coldly, "here I find Mr.

Forister."

Forister saluted with finished politeness. "My friend and I," he said,

"were discussing the probabilities of my killing him in the morning.

He seems to think that he has some small chance for his life, but I

have assured him that any real betting man would not wager a grain of

sand that he would see the sun go down to-morrow."

"Even so," rejoined the Colonel imperturbably.

"And I also suggested to my friend," pursued Forister, "that to-morrow

I would sacrifice my ruffles for him, although I always abominate

having a man's life-blood about my wrists."

"Even so," quoth the undisturbed Colonel.

"And further I suggested to my friend that if he came to the ground

with a coffin on his back, it might promote expedition after the

affair was over."

Colonel Royale turned away with a gesture of disgust.

I thought it was high time to play an ace at Forister and stop his

babble, so I said:

"And when Mr. Forister had finished his graceful remarks we had some

talk regarding Mr. Forister's affairs in Bristol, and I confess I was

much interested in hearing about the little--"

Here I stopped abruptly, as if I had been interrupted by Forister;

but he had given me no sign but a sickly grin.

"Eh, Forister?" said I. "What's that?"

"I was remarking that I had nothing further to say for the present,"

he replied, with superb insolence. "For the time I am quite willing to

be silent. I bid you a good day, sirs."

The O'Ruddy: A Romance · 第 7 / 33 章