The reason for Sir Harry Payne's sneering remark was patent to Colonel
Mellersh as soon as he opened the door, for from the Linnells' rooms
came the sweet harmonies of a couple of exquisitely-played violins, and
for a few minutes the Colonel seemed to forget the trouble on hand, as
he stood with his face softened, and one delicate hand waving to the
rhythm of the old Italian music.
"Poor lad!" he said, as his face changed, and a look of pain crossed his
brow. "And for her, too. Weak, foolish lad! He's infatuated--as we
all are at some time or other in our lives."
He stood in his doorway, thoughtful, and with brow knit.
"That chattering pie will spread it all over the town. Clode will get
to know, and then--well, we must take care."
He crossed the hall, tapped lightly on the opposite door, and then
entered.
"Bravo--bravo!" he cried, clapping his delicate white hands.
"Admirable!"
"Ah, Mellersh, come and join us," said the elder Linnell, raising his
glasses on to his forehead. "Just in time for a trio."
"No, no, not to-day. Impossible. My head is terrible this morning.
Late hours--cards--strong coffee. I came to ask Dick here if he would
be my companion for a six-mile walk to Shankley Wood."
The elder Linnell looked from one to the other with a smile.
"Oh, I'm sure he will," he said. "Eh, Dick?"
"Of course, father, of course."
"And out all the morning, too! Well, well, fresh air for health."
"Why don't you get more then, Linnell?"
"I--I?" said the grave, elderly man slowly. "I don't know. I don't
want fresh air. I'm very well as I am. I shall do for my time here."
"Why, father," said Richard merrily, as he clapped him on the shoulder,
"what a tone to take."
He exchanged a quick, agonised glance with Mellersh, and then proceeded
to replace his violin and bow in the case.
"Come to me, Dick," said the Colonel; "I want to go to my room:" and he
went out, busied himself for a few minutes in his bedroom, and then came
out again into the hall, to find Mrs Dean disappearing up the
staircase, and Cora giving some orders to her little groom.
He waited till she turned and came towards him with a scornful look in
her eyes.
"Well," he said, in a low voice, and with a longing undertook in his
eyes that he evidently tried to conceal, "how many poor fellows slain
this morning?"
"How many are there here worth slaying?" she said, in the same low tone.
"A matter of taste," he said, gravely. "A matter of taste, Miss Cora
Dean."
"Not one," she said, giving him her hand in response to his own held
out.
"I don't know," he said, looking very keenly in her eyes, "anger--love--
jealousy."
She snatched her hand away.
"Don't fool!" she cried angrily. "I? Jealous?"
"Yes, you--jealous," he said; and then as she hurried up the stairs,
"and there would be another emotion to trouble you, Cora Dean, if you
knew all that I know now. Ah, Dick! Ready?"
"Yes. Who was that, here?"
"Your fair enslaver--Cora Dean!"
Richard looked up at him keenly and laughed as they left the house,
ignorant of the fact that Cora was watching them intently, and Mrs Dean
was keeping up a running fire of comment on what she called her "gal's
foolery."
Mellersh led the way at a good brisk pace along the parade, and they had
not gone far before they became aware of the tall figure of the Master
of the Ceremonies showing himself, as was his wont, king of the place
apparently, and bowing and acknowledging bows.
Richard Linnell drew his breath with a slight hiss, but there was no
avoiding the encounter, and as they drew near and raised their hats,
there was a smile and most courteous bow for Colonel Mellersh, and the
most distant of salutes for his companion.
"Old impostor," said the Colonel, as they took the first turning and
made for the country beyond the Downs.
"No," said Richard Linnell gravely, "I don't think him that. He is a
gentleman at heart, fond of his children, and his ways are forced upon
him by his position."
"Fond of his children! Bah! As objects of merchandise. I tell you,
Dick, I hate the man."
"And when you hate a man you are unjust."
"Not here. My dear Dick, you look at old Denville through rose-coloured
glasses. Pah! I detest him, and, by Jove, sir, I don't acquit him of
some knowledge of that terrible affair at his house."
"Colonel Mellersh!"
"My dear boy!"
They walked on in silence for a few minutes, and then, clear now of the
town, Colonel Mellersh exclaimed:
"My dear Dick, you have always known my feelings regarding this
unfortunate attachment."
"Yes," said the young man sadly.
"She is very beautiful, but see how she has been brought up. Look at
her sister--a weak, vain, foolish child more than a married woman, about
whom there is bound to be some scandal soon."
"Can the sister help that?"
"Look at the brother; that careless young ne'er-do-weel, who is to be
trained up in his father's steps."
"Poverty seems to be their greatest sin," replied Richard quietly.
"Then, there is another son, who quarrelled with the father and went off
and enlisted. My dear Dick, is such a family one that you ought to
enter?"
"My dear Colonel," said Richard with a sad smile, "I do not seem likely
to enter it. You saw the look old Denville gave me. But, for heaven's
sake, don't throw out hints again about that murder."
"Very well, but you must promise me that there shall be an end to all
this infatuation. I speak as your father's oldest and dearest friend,
and as one who feels as if he had a share in you--you reckless wild
young scapegrace."
"I can promise nothing," said Richard coldly.
"Not now that you have been dragged into this serious affair?"
"Miss Denville has dragged me into no serious affair. Her conduct to me
has always been that of a refined and modest lady."
"My dear boy! Have you forgotten that this has been going on between
her and Rockley for months?"
"There is nothing between Major Rockley and Miss Denville," said Richard
hoarsely; and his cheeks began to burn and his eyes to flash.
"Dick! Have you forgotten the serenade that night?"
"Have I forgotten it!" cried Richard fiercely.
"Well, what does that show?"
"That this scoundrel--this _roue_--this libertine--dared to cast his
vile eyes on as sweet and pure a girl as ever breathed. Look here,
Colonel Mellersh--no, no--my dear old friend--I found that dog insulting
Miss Denville."
"Where?"
"Away there, beyond the Downs, out past the fishermen's cottages."
"How came Claire Denville out there alone with one of the wildest
officers at the barracks?"
"Heaven knows," cried Richard. "I tell you I found him grossly
insulting her, and I took the dog's whip from him, and thrashed him till
my arm ached."
"And the lady flung herself into your arms, called you her gallant, her
brave preserver, and you embraced and swore fidelity, while the wicked
villain, the dog that you had thrashed, sneaked off snarling, with his
tail between his legs."
Richard turned upon him fiercely, but he checked his anger as he met the
Colonel's mocking eyes.
"You do not know Claire Denville," he said coldly.
"But, Dick, lad, come--there was the embracing and thanks?"
"Miss Denville is a sweet, true lady," said Richard, "whom I fear I may
never win."
"Never win!" said the Colonel mockingly. "Dick, Dick, what a child you
are! I used, a year or two back, to be glad you were so different to
the other men here; but now I almost regret that you have not led a
faster life. You are such an innocent boy."
"Shall we turn back?" said Richard abruptly.
"Turn back, man, no. We have not said a word yet about your meeting.
Don't be angry with me, lad. Believe me, I am one of your truest
friends."
"I know it," cried Richard warmly; "but don't talk of my love affair.
We shall never agree till the scales of prejudice have dropped from your
eyes."
"Till the scales of a boyish folly have dropped from yours, Dick. Well,
we shall be in accord some day. If I'm wrong I'll humbly ask your
pardon."
"And if I'm wrong I will yours," cried Richard. "Now, then, what of
Payne's visit?"
"You will have to meet the Major," said the Colonel gravely.
"Yes, I suppose so. He could not forgive such an insult as that."
"You treat it very lightly, Dick. The consequences may be very grave."
"I hope not," said Richard. "I am not a soldier, but I am not going to
show the white feather, even if I wear it in my heart."
"Not you," said the Colonel, as he tapped his companion on the shoulder.
"But I should have liked you to be fighting on account of some other
lady."
"And I should not," cried Richard. "Is this likely to be serious?"
"I should be no true friend to you, my lad, if I concealed the truth
from you. It may be very serious."
"For me?"
"I don't say that."
"But I never fired a pistol in my life, and I fence horribly."
"It will be pistols, Dick. I arranged that it should be. But you will
be cool?"
"I hope I shall be just as I am now," said Richard calmly.
The Colonel looked at him intently, but no nerve showed a tremor.
"A good walk will do you good," he said, and after telling him the
preliminaries, and the place where they were to meet, the conversation
was changed and they walked slowly on till the edge of the Downs was
reached, and they soon after entered an extensive wood, walking down a
leafy glade where all seemed wonderfully peaceful, and its solemnity was
so soothing to Richard Linnell that he was about to throw himself upon
the turf when Colonel Mellersh stopped short, and pointing to a gnarled
beech of stunted growth, exclaimed:
"That will do exactly."
"Do?" said Linnell. "Do for what?"
"Why, my dear boy, do you suppose I have brought you out here for
nothing? No; since the abominable code for furbishing up injured honour
exists, and a man may be called out, it is our duty to prepare for
emergencies. You cannot use a pistol?"
"No," said Richard, shaking his head.
"I can. I have been out six times, and I'm going to show you how to hit
your man and save yourself."
"I don't want to hit Major Rockley."
"But I want you to hit him and save yourself. My dear boy, you are
worth five thousand Major Rockleys to your father, and we must not have
you hurt."
As he spoke, to Richard's great surprise, he took out a brace of
duelling pistols with flask and bullets, and after loading skilfully he
took a few cards from his breast, and going to the stunted tree, tacked
one on each of two boughs about on a level with a man's outstretched
arms, another on the trunk, and another higher still, where the head
would be.
"I used to practise with the pistol a great deal at one time, Dick, and
I could hit either of those address cards as many times as I liked."
"Then I will not quarrel with you and call you out."
"Don't," said the Colonel, handing him a pistol, and proceeding to step
out fifteen paces. "There," he said, "stand there and aim at that card
on the trunk. That is where a man's heart would be. I will count
slowly, and when I come to three, raise your pistol quickly and fire."
"One--two--_three_!"
Richard Linnell raised his pistol, and drew the trigger, but there was
no report.
"It will not go off," he said.
"No," replied the Colonel; "pistols never will, unless you cock them."
"Pish!" ejaculated Richard, repairing the omission. "Again."
The Colonel counted once more; there was a flash, a sharp report, and a
leaf or two fell from high up a tree to the right of the target.
"Take the other," said the Colonel quietly; "hold it a little more
firmly, and raise it slowly. The moment your eye glances straight along
the barrel, press the trigger softly, so as not to jerk the pistol.
Ready? Now--one--two--_three_!"
There was another sharp report, and the Colonel smiled.
"That's better," he said. "Your first bullet went over the enemy's head
twenty feet or so. That one would have him in the shoulder. Try
again."
The Colonel busied himself loading the pistols with all the quickness of
an adept as his pupil fired, keeping him at it for quite a couple of
hours, with intervals of rest. Now he made him fire at one card, then
at another, practising as at his adversary's arms, head, and body, till
Richard looked at him wearily.
"Yes; that will do now," said Colonel Mellersh. "You may congratulate
yourself, Dick, upon being a horribly bad shot; but you will be able to
handle your pistol properly, and raise it like a man who is used to the
weapon."
"What is the use of that," said Richard, smiling, "if I cannot aim
straight?"
"A great deal. If you had taken hold of your pistol in a bungling way
to-morrow, Rockley would have felt that he had you at his mercy, and he
would have been as cool as a fish. Now he will see that you know what a
pistol is, and be perfectly ignorant of the fact that you are unskilful
of aim. He will think he has a dangerous adversary before him, and be
more likely nervous than cool."
"I see," said Richard, with his eyes lighting up. "I've had my turn at
the scoundrel, and I'm satisfied. Of course I don't want to hit him,
but at the same time I don't want him to hit me."
"Oh!" said the Colonel drily, "I thought you did."
"What! want him to hit me! Why?"
"You seemed so cool over it."
"Oh, but I'm not," said Richard gravely. "I suppose a good shot would
hit one of those cards?"
"Time was, Dick, when I could have put half a dozen shots in either of
them. I don't know that I could hit one now."
He raised the pistol he had been loading as he spoke, took a quick aim,
and hit the centre card just on the edge, driving it into the bark of
the tree.
"Bad!" he said. "Let's try another."
He aimed at the card representing the enemy's right arm fired, and
struck it also about a quarter of an inch from the edge.
"Out of practice, Dick," he said, thrusting the pistols into their dark
cloth bags, and replacing them in his pocket. "There, my lad, let's get
home. Dine lightly this evening, go to bed in good time, and have a
long night's rest."
"When is the meeting?" said Richard calmly.
"At six to-morrow morning."
"Where did you say?"
"On the sands, two miles out below the east cliff."
"Why there?"
"We shall want an excuse for going out so early, my lad. We can be
going to bathe, and so be unnoticed, and there will be no fear of an
interruption," said the Colonel grimly. "This is to be no play affair,
Dick. An officer in His Majesty's service cannot submit to a
horse-whipping from a civilian without trying to get ample
satisfaction."
He looked at Richard with a grave air of pity in his countenance.
"Did you ever shoot a man?" said Richard, as they were walking briskly
back.
"Do you mean wounded or killed?"
"The latter."
"Once, Dick."
The young man's countenance contracted, and he looked at his companion
almost in horror.
"Yes," said the Colonel; "it is horrible, Dick, and the remembrance that
the man was an utter scoundrel does not make the fact much less horrible
after all these years."
They walked on for some distance in silence, before Richard Linnell
broke in upon his companion's reverie.
"Was the duel about--a lady?"
The Colonel uttered a harsh laugh.
"It's an arrangement of nature, my dear Ulysses," he said. "If you see
a couple of stags smashing their antlers, a couple of bulls goring each
other, or two rams battering one another's heads, a brace of pheasants
or barn-door cocks pecking and spurring each other to death, what's it
about? A lady. The same with mankind, Dick; a duel is almost
invariably more or less directly about a lady."
Richard Linnell went on thoughtfully for a time, and then turned with a
sad smile to the Colonel.
"So even you had to do battle once in such a cause?"
"Not exactly, Dick; it was upon another's behalf. An utter scoundrel,
just such a fellow as Rockley, did my best friend a mortal wrong. One
day, Dick, it was a happy, peaceful home that I used to visit, where as
sweet-natured, true, and gentle a man as ever breathed lived in happy
trust and faith in his sweet young wife; the next there was a stain--an
indelible stain--upon that hearth-stone, and my poor friend lay stricken
down by the shock, and nearly died of the brain fever that ensued."
Richard Linnell looked at him with a curious feeling of horror--he knew
not why--troubling his breast.
"Do you want to know any more?" said the Colonel roughly.
"Yes; go on."
"I did not see either of them for two years: the young wife or the
scoundrel I had introduced to the house as my friend. Then I had a
letter from the lady--a piteous, appealing letter to me to help her.
She told me she was starving in London, Dick, and that the villain who
had won her into leaving her home had forsaken her at the end of six
months, and that, since then, she had been striving to get a living by
teaching, but that now she was prostrate on a sick bed, helpless and
alone."
There was a few moments' pause, and then the Colonel went on:
"I went to see her, Dick--poor, little, weak woman. Her good looks were
gone, and she lay sick unto death for want of medical help and ordinary
nutriment."
The Colonel stopped again, for his mouth seemed dry, and he passed his
tongue over his fevered lips before he went on.
"I did what was necessary, and went straight to the man who had done all
this wrong. I told him everything, and that it was his duty to make
some reparation at least by providing for the lady's needs, and ensuring
that she should not want in the future."
"Well?" said Richard hoarsely.
"He laughed at me. He refused so utterly that I lost my temper and
called him villain and scoundrel. He retorted by insulting me with a
vile charge as to the cause of my taking an interest in that poor woman,
and he struck me, and then--"
"Well," said Richard, "and then?"
"I horsewhipped him, Dick, as you horsewhipped that man."
"And he challenged you, and you fought, and--"
"Yes, heaven forgive me," said Mellersh in a low voice, "I shot him
dead!"
"You did this for the woman you did not love," said Richard Linnell, as
if speaking to himself. "Yes, for the woman I did not love."
"What I did was for the woman I love with all my heart."
Volume Two, Chapter V.