THE ENCOUNTER
Solomon, Jack and their friend left London that afternoon in the saddle
and took lodgings at The Rose and Garter, less than a mile from the
scene appointed for the encounter. That morning the Americans had sent
a friend of Preston by post chaise to Deal, with Solomon's luggage.
Preston had also engaged the celebrated surgeon, Doctor Brooks, to
spend the night with them so that he would be sure to be on hand in the
morning. The doctor had officiated at no less than a dozen duels and
enjoyed these affairs so keenly that he was glad to give his help
without a fee. The party had gone out in the saddle because Preston
had said that the horses might be useful.
So, having discussed the perils of the immediate future, they had done
all it was in their power to do to prepare for them. Late that evening
the General and his son and four other gentlemen arrived at The Rose
and Garter. Certain of them had spent the afternoon in the
neighborhood shooting birds and rabbits.
Solomon got Jack to bed early and sat for a time in their room
tinkering with the pistols. When the locks were working "right," as he
put it, he polished their grips and barrels.
"Now I reckon they'll speak out when ye pull the trigger," he said to
Jack. "An' yer eyesight 'll skate erlong easy on the top o' them
bar'ls."
"It's a miserable kind of business," said the young man, who was lying
in bed and looking at his friend. "We Americans have a rather hard
time of it, I say. Life is a fight from beginning to end. We have had
to fight with the wilderness for our land and with the Indians and the
French for our lives, and now the British come along and tell us what
we must and mustn't do and burn up our houses."
"An' spit on us an' talk as if we was a lot o' boar pigs," said
Solomon. "But ol' Jeff tol' me 'twere the King an' his crowd that was
makin' all the trouble."
"Well, the King and his army can make us trouble enough," Jack
answered. "It's as necessary for an American to know how to fight as
to know how to walk."
"Now ye stop worryin' an' go to sleep 'er I'll take ye crost my knee,"
said Solomon. "They ain't goin' to be no great damage done, not if ye
do as I tell ye. I've been an' looked the ground over an' if we have
to leg it, I know which way to go."
Solomon had heard from Preston that evening that the Lieutenant was the
best pistol shot in his regiment, but he kept the gossip to himself,
knowing it would not improve the aim of his young friend. But Solomon
was made uneasy by this report.
"My boy kin throw a bullet straight as a plumb line an' quick as
lightnin'," he had said to Preston. "It's as nat'ral fer him as
drawin' his breath. That ere chap may git bored 'fore he has time to
pull. I ain't much skeered."
Jack was nervous, although not from fear. His estimate of the value of
human life had been increased by his affection for Margaret. When
Solomon had gone to bed and the lights were blown, the young man felt
every side of his predicament to see if there were any peaceable way
out of it. For hours he labored with this hopeless task, until he fell
into a troubled sleep, in which he saw great battalions marching toward
each other. On one side, the figures of himself and Solomon were
repeated thousands of times, and on the other was a host of Lionel
Clarkes.
The words came to his ear: "My son, we're goin' to fight the first
battle o' the war."
Jack awoke suddenly and opened his eyes. The candle was lighted.
Solomon was leaning over him. He was drawing on his trousers.
"Come, my son," said the scout in a gentle voice. "They ain't a cloud
an' the moon has got a smile on her face. Come, my young David.
Here's the breeches an' the purty stockin's an' shoes, an' the lily
white shirt. Slip 'em on an' we'll kneel down an' have a word o'
prayer. This 'ere ain't no common fight. It's a battle with tyranny.
It's like the fight o' David an' Goliar. Here's yer ol' sling waitin'
fer ye!"
Solomon felt the pistols and stroked their grips with a loving hand.
Side by side they knelt by the bed together for a moment of silent
prayer.
Others were stirring in the inn. They could hear footsteps and low
voices in a room near them. Jack put on his suit of brown velvet and
his white silk stockings and best linen, which he had brought in a
small bag. Jack was looking at the pistols, when there came a rap at
the door. Preston entered with Doctor Brooks.
"We are to go out quietly ahead of the others," said the Captain.
"They will follow in five minutes."
Solomon had put on the old hanger which had come to England with him in
his box. He put the pistols in his pocket and they left the inn by a
rear door. A groom was waiting there with the horses saddled and
bridled. They mounted them and rode to the field of honor. When they
dismounted on the ground chosen, the day was dawning, but the great
oaks were still waist deep in gloom. It was cold.
Preston called his friends to his side and said:
"You will fight at twenty paces. I shall count three and when I drop
my handkerchief you are both to fire."
Solomon turned to Jack and said:
"If ye fire quick mebbe ye'll take the crook out o' his finger 'fore it
has time to pull."
The other party was coming. There were six men in it. The General and
his son and one other were in military dress. The General was chatting
with a friend. The pistols were loaded by Solomon and General Clarke,
while each watched the other. The Lieutenant's friends and seconds
stood close together laughing at some jest.
"That's funny, I'll say, what--what!" said one of the gentlemen.
Jack turned to look at him, for there had been a curious inflection in
his "what, what!" He was a stout, highly colored man with large,
staring gray eyes. The young American wondered where he had seen him
before.
Preston paced the ground and laid down strips of white ribband marking
the distance which was to separate the principals. He summoned the
young men and said: "Gentlemen, is there no way in which your honor can
be satisfied without fighting?"
They shook their heads.
"Your stations have been chosen by lot. Irons, yours is there. Take
your ground, gentlemen."
The young men walked to their places and at this point the graphic
Major Solomon Binkus, whose keen eyes observed every detail of the
scene, is able to assume the position of narrator, the words which
follow being from a letter he wrote to John Irons of Albany.
"Our young David stood up thar as straight an' han'some as a young
spruce on a still day--not a quiver in ary twig. The Clarke boy was a
leetle pale an' when he raised his pistol I could see a twitch in his
lips. He looked kind o' stiff. I see they was one thing' 'bout
shootin' he hadn't learnt. It don't do to tighten up. I were
skeered--I don't deny it--'cause a gun don't allus have to be p'inted
careful to kill a man.
"We all stood watchin' every move. I could hear a bird singin' twenty
rod,--'twere that still. Preston stood a leetle out o' line 'bout
half-way betwixt 'em. Up come his hand with the han'kerchief in it.
Then Jack raised his pistol and took a peek down the line he wanted.
The han'kerchief was in the air. Don't seem so it had fell an inch
when the pistols went pop! pop! Jack's hollered fust. Clarke's pistol
fell. His arm dropped an' swung limp as a rope's end. His hand turned
red an' blood began to spurt above it. I see Jack's bullet had jumped
into his right wrist an' tore it wide open. The Lieutenant staggered,
bleedin' like a stuck whale. He'd 'a' gone to the ground but his
friends grabbed him. I run to Jack.
"'Be ye hit?' I says.
"'I think his bullet teched me a little on the top o' the left
shoulder,' says he.
"I see his coat were tore an' we took it off an' the jacket, an' I
ripped the shirt some an' see that the bullet had kind o' scuffed its
foot on him goin' by, an' left a track in the skin. It didn't mount to
nothin'. The Doctor washed it off an' put a plaster on.
"'Looks as if he'd drawed a line on yer heart an' yer bullet had lifted
his aim,' I says. 'Ye shoot quick, Jack, an' mebbe that's what saved
ye.'
"It looked kind o' neevarious like that 'ere Englishman had intended
they was goin' to be one Yankee less. Jack put on his jacket an' his
coat an' we stepped over to see how they was gettin' erlong with the
other feller. The two doctors was tryin' fer to fix his arm and he
were groanin' severe. Jack leaned over and looked down at him.
"'I'm sorry,' he says. 'Is there anything I can do?'
"'No, sir. You've done enuff,' growled the old General.
"One o' his party stepped up to Jack. He were dressed like a high-up
officer in the army. They was a cur'ous look in his eyes--kind o'
skeered like. Seemed so I'd seen him afore somewheres.
"'I fancy ye're a good shot, sir--a good shot, sir--what--what?' he
says to Jack, an' the words come as fast as a bird's twitter.
"I've had a lot o' practise,' says our boy.
"'Kin ye kill that bird--what--what?" says he, p'intin' at a hawk that
were a-cuttin' circles in the air.
"'If he comes clus' 'nough,' says Jack.
"I passed him the loaded pistol. In 'bout two seconds he lifted it and
bang she went, an' down come the hawk.
"Them fellers all looked at one 'nother.
"'Gin'ral, shake hands with this 'ere boy,' says the man with the
skeered eyes. 'If he is a Yankey he's a decent lad--what--what?'
"The Gin'ral shook hands with Jack an', says he: 'Young man, I have no
doubt o' 'yer curidge or yer decency.'
"A grand pair o' hosses an' a closed coach druv up an' the ol'
what-whatter an' two other men got into it an' hustled off 'cross the
field towards the pike which it looked as if they was in a hurry.
'Fore he were out o' sight a military amb'lance druv up. Preston come
over to us an' says he:
"'We better be goin'.'
"'Do ye know who he were?' asks Jack.
"'If ye know ye better fergit it,' says Preston.
"'How could I? He were the King o' England,' says Jack. 'I knowed him
by the look o' his eyes.'
"'Sart'in sure,' says I. 'He's the man that wus bein' toted in a
chair.'
"'Hush! I tell ye to fergit it,' says Preston.
"'I can fergit all but the fact that he behaved like a gentleman,' says
Jack.
"'I 'spose he were usin' his private brain,' says I."
This, with some slight changes in spelling, paragraphing and
punctuation, is the account which Solomon Binkus gave of the most
exciting adventure these two friends had met with.
Preston came to Jack and whispered: "The outcome is a great surprise to
the other side. Young Clarke is a dead shot. An injured officer of
the English army may cause unexpected embarrassment. But you have time
enough and no haste. You can take the post chaise and reach the ship
well ahead of her sailing."
"I am of a mind not to go with you," Jack said to Solomon. "When I go,
I shall take Margaret with me."
So it happened that Jack returned to London while Solomon waited for
the post chaise to Deal.