into an ugly scrape, and I trust to my friends to get me out of it.'
'You have had no dispute with that man--that Fitzgerald, I hope,' said
I, giving utterance to the conjecture whose truth I most dreaded.
'Faith, I cannot say exactly what passed between us,' said he, 'inasmuch
as I was at the time nearly half seas over; but of this much I am
certain, that we exchanged angry words last night. I lost my temper most
confoundedly; but, as well as I can recollect, he appeared perfectly
cool and collected. What he said was, therefore, deliberately said, and
on that account must be resented.'
'My dear O'Connor, are you mad?' I exclaimed. 'Why will you seek to
drive to a deadly issue a few hasty words, uttered under the influence
of wine, and forgotten almost as soon as uttered? A quarrel with
Fitzgerald it is twenty chances to one would terminate fatally to you.'
'It is exactly because Fitzgerald IS such an accomplished shot,'
said he, 'that I become liable to the most injurious and intolerable
suspicions if I submit to anything from him which could be construed
into an affront; and for that reason Fitzgerald is the very last man to
whom I would concede an inch in a case of honour.'
'I do not require you to make any, the slightest sacrifice of what
you term your honour,' I replied; 'but if you have actually written a
challenge to Fitzgerald, as I suspect you have done, I conjure you to
reconsider the matter before you despatch it. From all that I have heard
you say, Fitzgerald has more to complain of in the altercation which has
taken place than you. You owe it to your only surviving parent not to
thrust yourself thus wantonly upon--I will say it, the most appalling
danger. Nobody, my dear O'Connor, can have a doubt of your courage; and
if at any time, which God forbid, you shall be called upon thus to risk
your life, you should have it in your power to enter the field under the
consciousness that you have acted throughout temperately and like a man,
and not, as I fear you now would do, having rashly and most causelessly
endangered your own life and that of your friend.'
'I believe, Purcell, your are right,' said he. 'I believe I HAVE viewed
the matter in too decided a light; my note, I think, scarcely allows
him an honourable alternative, and that is certainly going a step too
far--further than I intended. Mr. M'Donough, I'll thank you to hand me
the note.'
He broke the seal, and, casting his eye hastily over it, he continued:
'It is, indeed, a monument of folly. I am very glad, Purcell, you
happened to come in, otherwise it would have reached its destination by
this time.'
He threw it into the fire; and, after a moment's pause, resumed:
'You must not mistake me, however. I am perfectly satisfied as to the
propriety, nay, the necessity, of communicating with Fitzgerald. The
difficulty is in what tone I should address him. I cannot say that the
man directly affronted me--I cannot recollect any one expression which
I could lay hold upon as offensive--but his language was ambiguous, and
admitted frequently of the most insulting construction, and his manner
throughout was insupportably domineering. I know it impressed me with
the idea that he presumed upon his reputation as a DEAD SHOT, and that
would be utterly unendurable.'
'I would now recommend, as I have already done,' said M'Donough, 'that
if you write to Fitzgerald, it should be in such a strain as to leave
him at perfect liberty, without a compromise of honour, in a friendly
way, to satisfy your doubts as to his conduct.'
I seconded the proposal warmly, and O'Connor, in a few minutes, finished
a note, which he desired us to read. It was to this effect:
'O'Connor, of Castle Connor, feeling that some expressions employed by
Mr. Fitzgerald upon last night, admitted of a construction offensive
to him, and injurious to his character, requests to know whether Mr.
Fitzgerald intended to convey such a meaning.
'Castle Connor, Thursday morning.'
This note was consigned to the care of Mr. M'Donough, who forthwith
departed to execute his mission. The sound of his horse's hoofs, as
he rode rapidly away, struck heavily at my heart; but I found some
satisfaction in the reflection that M'Donough appeared as averse from
extreme measures as I was myself, for I well knew, with respect to the
final result of the affair, that as much depended upon the tone adopted
by the SECOND, as upon the nature of the written communication.
I have seldom passed a more anxious hour than that which intervened
between the departure and the return of that gentleman. Every instant I
imagined I heard the tramp of a horse approaching, and every time that
a door opened I fancied it was to give entrance to the eagerly expected
courier. At length I did hear the hollow and rapid tread of a horse's
hoof upon the avenue. It approached--it stopped--a hurried step
traversed the hall--the room door opened, and M'Donough entered.
'You have made great haste,' said O'Connor; 'did you find him at home?'
'I did,' replied M'Donough, 'and made the greater haste as Fitzgerald
did not let me know the contents of his reply.'
At the same time he handed a note to O'Connor, who instantly broke the
seal. The words were as follow:
'Mr. Fitzgerald regrets that anything which has fallen from him should
have appeared to Mr. O'Connor to be intended to convey a reflection upon
his honour (none such having been meant), and begs leave to disavow any
wish to quarrel unnecessarily with Mr. O'Connor.
'T---- Inn, Thursday morning.'
I cannot describe how much I felt relieved on reading the above
communication. I took O'Connor's hand and pressed it warmly, but my
emotions were deeper and stronger than I cared to show, for I was
convinced that he had escaped a most imminent danger. Nobody whose
notions upon the subject are derived from the duelling of modern times,
in which matters are conducted without any very sanguinary determination
upon either side, and with equal want of skill and coolness by both
parties, can form a just estimate of the danger incurred by one who
ventured to encounter a duellist of the old school. Perfect coolness
in the field, and a steadiness and accuracy (which to the unpractised
appeared almost miraculous) in the use of the pistol, formed the
characteristics of this class; and in addition to this there generally
existed a kind of professional pride, which prompted the duellist, in
default of any more malignant feeling, from motives of mere vanity,
to seek the life of his antagonist. Fitzgerald's career had been a
remarkably successful one, and I knew that out of thirteen duels which
he had fought in Ireland, in nine cases he had KILLED his man. In
those days one never heard of the parties leaving the field, as not
unfrequently now occurs, without blood having been spilt; and the
odds were, of course, in all cases tremendously against a young and
unpractised man, when matched with an experienced antagonist. My
impression respecting the magnitude of the danger which my friend had
incurred was therefore by no means unwarranted.
I now questioned O'Connor more accurately respecting the circumstances
of his quarrel with Fitzgerald. It arose from some dispute respecting
the application of a rule of piquet, at which game they had been
playing, each interpreting it favourably to himself, and O'Connor,
having lost considerably, was in no mood to conduct an argument with
temper--an altercation ensued, and that of rather a pungent nature,
and the result was that he left Fitzgerald's room rather abruptly,
determined to demand an explanation in the most peremptory tone. For
this purpose he had sent for M'Donough, and had commissioned him to
deliver the note, which my arrival had fortunately intercepted.
As it was now past noon, O'Connor made me promise to remain with him
to dinner; and we sat down a party of three, all in high spirits at
the termination of our anxieties. It is necessary to mention, for the
purpose of accounting for what follows, that Mrs. O'Connor, or, as she
was more euphoniously styled, the lady of Castle Connor, was precluded
by ill-health from taking her place at the dinner-table, and, indeed,
seldom left her room before four o'clock.(4) We were sitting after
dinner sipping our claret, and talking, and laughing, and enjoying
ourselves exceedingly, when a servant, stepping into the room, informed
his master that a gentleman wanted to speak with him.
(4) It is scarcely necessary to remind the reader, that at
the period spoken of, the important hour of dinner occurred
very nearly at noon.
'Request him, with my compliments, to walk in,' said O'Connor; and in a
few moments a gentleman entered the room.
His appearance was anything but prepossessing. He was a little above the
middle size, spare, and raw-boned; his face very red, his features sharp
and bluish, and his age might be about sixty. His attire savoured a good
deal of the SHABBY-GENTEEL; his clothes, which had much of tarnished
and faded pretension about them, did not fit him, and had not improbably
fluttered in the stalls of Plunket Street. We had risen on his entrance,
and O'Connor had twice requested of him to take a chair at the table,
without his hearing, or at least noticing, the invitation; while with
a slow pace, and with an air of mingled importance and effrontery, he
advanced into the centre of the apartment, and regarding our small party
with a supercilious air, he said:
'I take the liberty of introducing myself--I am Captain M'Creagh,
formerly of the--infantry. My business here is with a Mr. O'Connor, and
the sooner it is despatched the better.'
'I am the gentleman you name,' said O'Connor; 'and as you appear
impatient, we had better proceed to your commission without delay.'
'Then, Mr. O'Connor, you will please to read that note,' said the
captain, placing a sealed paper in his hand.
O'Connor read it through, and then observed:
'This is very extraordinary indeed. This note appears to me perfectly
unaccountable.'
'You are very young, Mr. O'Connor,' said the captain, with vulgar
familiarity; 'but, without much experience in these matters, I think
you might have anticipated something like this. You know the old saying,
"Second thoughts are best;" and so they are like to prove, by G--!'
'You will have no objection, Captain M'Creagh, on the part of your
friend, to my reading this note to these gentlemen; they are both
confidential friends of mine, and one of them has already acted for me
in this business.'
'I can have no objection,' replied the captain, 'to your doing what you
please with your own. I have nothing more to do with that note once I
put it safe into your hand; and when that is once done, it is all one to
me, if you read it to half the world--that's YOUR concern, and no affair
of mine.'
O'Connor then read the following:
'Mr. Fitzgerald begs leave to state, that upon re-perusing Mr.
O'Connor's communication of this morning carefully, with an experienced
friend, he is forced to consider himself as challenged. His friend,
Captain M'Creagh, has been empowered by him to make all the necessary
arrangements.
'T---- Inn, Thursday.'
I can hardly describe the astonishment with which I heard this note. I
turned to the captain, and said:
'Surely, sir, there is some mistake in all this?'
'Not the slightest, I'll assure you, sir.' said he, coolly; 'the case is
a very clear one, and I think my friend has pretty well made up his mind
upon it. May I request your answer?' he continued, turning to O'Connor;
'time is precious, you know.'
O'Connor expressed his willingness to comply with the suggestion, and in
a few minutes had folded and directed the following rejoinder:
'Mr. O'Connor having received a satisfactory explanation from Mr.
Fitzgerald, of the language used by that gentleman, feels that there no
longer exists any grounds for misunderstanding, and wishes further to
state, that the note of which Mr. Fitzgerald speaks was not intended as
a challenge.'
With this note the captain departed; and as we did not doubt that the
message which he had delivered had been suggested by some unintentional
misconstruction of O'Connor's first billet, we felt assured that the
conclusion of his last note would set the matter at rest. In this
belief, however, we were mistaken; before we had left the table, and in
an incredibly short time, the captain returned. He entered the room
with a countenance evidently tasked to avoid expressing the satisfaction
which a consciousness of the nature of his mission had conferred; but
in spite of all his efforts to look gravely unconcerned, there was a
twinkle in the small grey eye, and an almost imperceptible motion in the
corner of the mouth, which sufficiently betrayed his internal glee, as
he placed a note in the hand of O'Connor. As the young man cast his eye
over it, he coloured deeply, and turning to M'Donough, he said:
'You will have the goodness to make all the necessary arrangements for
a meeting. Something has occurred to render one between me and Mr.
Fitzgerald inevitable. Understand me literally, when I say that it is
now totally impossible that this affair should be amicably arranged.
You will have the goodness, M'Donough, to let me know as soon as all
the particulars are arranged. Purcell,' he continued, 'will you have
the kindness to accompany me?' and having bowed to M'Creagh, we left the
room.
As I closed the door after me, I heard the captain laugh, and thought I
could distinguish the words--'By ---- I knew Fitzgerald would bring him
to his way of thinking before he stopped.'
I followed O'Connor into his study, and on entering, the door being
closed, he showed me the communication which had determined him upon
hostilities. Its language was grossly impertinent, and it concluded by
actually threatening to 'POST' him, in case he further attempted 'to
be OFF.' I cannot describe the agony of indignation in which O'Connor
writhed under this insult. He said repeatedly that 'he was a degraded
and dishohoured man,' that 'he was dragged into the field,' that 'there
was ignominy in the very thought that such a letter should have
been directed to him.' It was in vain that I reasoned against this
impression; the conviction that he had been disgraced had taken
possession of his mind. He said again and again that nothing but his
DEATH could remove the stain which his indecision had cast upon the
name of his family. I hurried to the hall, on hearing M'Donough and the
captain passing, and reached the door just in time to hear the latter
say, as he mounted his horse:
'All the rest can be arranged on the spot; and so farewell, Mr.
M'Donough--we'll meet at Philippi, you know;' and with this classical
allusion, which was accompanied with a grin and a bow, and probably
served many such occasions, the captain took his departure.
M'Donough briefly stated the few particulars which had been arranged.
The parties were to meet at the stand-house, in the race-ground, which
lay at about an equal distance between Castle Connor and the town of
T----. The hour appointed was half-past five on the next morning, at
which time the twilight would be sufficiently advanced to afford a
distinct view; and the weapons to be employed were PISTOLS--M'Creagh
having claimed, on the part of his friend, all the advantages of the
CHALLENGED party, and having, consequently, insisted upon the choice of
'TOOLS,' as he expressed himself; and it was further stipulated that the
utmost secrecy should be observed, as Fitzgerald would incur great risk
from the violence of the peasantry, in case the affair took wind. These
conditions were, of course, agreed upon by O'Connor, and M'Donough left
the castle, having appointed four o'clock upon the next morning as the
hour of his return, by which time it would be his business to provide
everything necessary for the meeting. On his departure, O'Connor
requested me to remain with him upon that evening, saying that 'he
could not bear to be alone with his mother.' It was to me a most painful
request, but at the same time one which I could not think of refusing.
I felt, however, that the difficulty at least of the task which I had
to perform would be in some measure mitigated by the arrival of two
relations of O'Connor upon that evening.
'It is very fortunate,' said O'Connor, whose thoughts had been running
upon the same subject, 'that the O'Gradys will be with us to-night;
their gaiety and good-humour will relieve us from a heavy task. I trust
that nothing may occur to prevent their coming.' Fervently concurring in
the same wish, I accompanied O'Connor into the parlour, there to await
the arrival of his mother.
God grant that I may never spend such another evening! The O'Gradys DID
come, but their high and noisy spirits, so far from relieving me, did
but give additional gloom to the despondency, I might say the despair,
which filled my heart with misery--the terrible forebodings which I
could not for an instant silence, turned their laughter into discord,
and seemed to mock the smiles and jests of the unconscious party. When
I turned my eyes upon the mother, I thought I never had seen her look so
proudly and so lovingly upon her son before--it cut me to the heart--oh,
how cruelly I was deceiving her! I was a hundred times on the very point
of starting up, and, at all hazards, declaring to her how matters
were; but other feelings subdued my better emotions. Oh, what monsters
are we made of by the fashions of the world! how are our kindlier and
nobler feelings warped or destroyed by their baleful influences! I felt
that it would not be HONOURABLE, that it would not be ETIQUETTE, to
betray O'Connor's secret. I sacrificed a higher and a nobler duty than I
have since been called upon to perform, to the dastardly fear of bearing
the unmerited censure of a world from which I was about to retire. O
Fashion! thou gaudy idol, whose feet are red with the blood of human
sacrifice, would I had always felt towards thee as I now do!
O'Connor was not dejected; on the contrary, he joined with loud and
lively alacrity in the hilarity of the little party; but I could see in
the flush of his cheek, and in the unusual brightness of his eye, all
the excitement of fever--he was making an effort almost beyond his
strength, but he succeeded--and when his mother rose to leave the
room, it was with the impression that her son was the gayest and most
light-hearted of the company. Twice or thrice she had risen with the
intention of retiring, but O'Connor, with an eagerness which I alone
could understand, had persuaded her to remain until the usual hour of
her departure had long passed; and when at length she arose, declaring
that she could not possibly stay longer, I alone could comprehend the
desolate change which passed over his manner; and when I saw them part,
it was with the sickening conviction that those two beings, so dear to
one another, so loved, so cherished, should meet no more.
O'Connor briefly informed his cousins of the position in which he was
placed, requesting them at the same time to accompany him to the field,
and this having been settled, we separated, each to his own apartment.
I had wished to sit up with O'Connor, who had matters to arrange
sufficient to employ him until the hour appointed for M'Donough's visit;
but he would not hear of it, and I was forced, though sorely against
my will, to leave him without a companion. I went to my room, and, in
a state of excitement which I cannot describe, I paced for hours up and
down its narrow precincts. I could not--who could?--analyse the strange,
contradictory, torturing feelings which, while I recoiled in shrinking
horror from the scene which the morning was to bring, yet forced me to
wish the intervening time annihilated; each hour that the clock told
seemed to vibrate and tinkle through every nerve; my agitation was
dreadful; fancy conjured up the forms of those who filled my thoughts
with more than the vividness of reality; things seemed to glide through
the dusky shadows of the room. I saw the dreaded form of Fitzgerald--I
heard the hated laugh of the captain--and again the features of O'Connor
would appear before me, with ghastly distinctness, pale and writhed in
death, the gouts of gore clotted in the mouth, and the eye-balls
glared and staring. Scared with the visions which seemed to throng with
unceasing rapidity and vividness, I threw open the window and looked out
upon the quiet scene around. I turned my eyes in the direction of the
town; a heavy cloud was lowering darkly about it, and I, in impious
frenzy, prayed to God that it might burst in avenging fires upon the
murderous wretch who lay beneath. At length, sick and giddy with excess
of excitement, I threw myself upon the bed without removing my clothes,
and endeavoured to compose myself so far as to remain quiet until the
hour for our assembling should arrive.
A few minutes before four o'clock I stole noiselessly downstairs, and
made my way to the small study already mentioned. A candle was burning
within; and, when I opened the door, O'Connor was reading a book, which,
on seeing me, he hastily closed, colouring slightly as he did so. We
exchanged a cordial but mournful greeting; and after a slight pause he
said, laying his hand upon the volume which he had shut a moment before:
'Purcell, I feel perfectly calm, though I cannot say that I have much
hope as to the issue of this morning's rencounter. I shall avoid half
the danger. If I must fall, I am determined I shall not go down to
the grave with his blood upon my hands. I have resolved not to fire at
Fitzgerald--that is, to fire in such a direction as to assure myself
against hitting him. Do not say a word of this to the O'Gradys. Your
doing so would only produce fruitless altercation; they could not
understand my motives. I feel convinced that I shall not leave the
field alive. If I must die to-day, I shall avoid an awful aggravation
of wretchedness. Purcell,' he continued, after a little space, 'I was so
weak as to feel almost ashamed of the manner in which I was occupied as
you entered the room. Yes, _I--I_ who will be, before this evening,
a cold and lifeless clod, was ashamed to have spent my last moment of
reflection in prayer. God pardon me! God pardon me!' he repeated.
I took his hand and pressed it, but I could not speak. I sought for
words of comfort, but they would not come. To have uttered one cheering
sentence I must have contradicted every impression of my own mind. I
felt too much awed to attempt it. Shortly afterwards, M'Donough arrived.
No wretched patient ever underwent a more thrilling revulsion at the
first sight of the case of surgical instruments under which he had to
suffer, than did I upon beholding a certain oblong flat mahogany box,
bound with brass, and of about two feet in length, laid upon the table
in the hall. O'Connor, thanking him for his punctuality, requested
him to come into his study for a moment, when, with a melancholy
collectedness, he proceeded to make arrangements for our witnessing
his will. The document was a brief one, and the whole matter was just
arranged, when the two O'Gradys crept softly into the room.
'So! last will and testament,' said the elder. 'Why, you have a very
BLUE notion of these matters. I tell you, you need not be uneasy.
I remember very well, when young Ryan of Ballykealey met M'Neil the
duellist, bets ran twenty to one against him. I stole away from school,
and had a peep at the fun as well as the best of them. They fired
together. Ryan received the ball through the collar of his coat, and
M'Neil in the temple; he spun like a top: it was a most unexpected
thing, and disappointed his friends damnably. It was admitted, however,
to have been very pretty shooting upon both sides. To be sure,' he
continued, pointing to the will, 'you are in the right to keep upon the
safe side of fortune; but then, there is no occasion to be altogether so
devilish down in the mouth as you appear to be.'
'You will allow,' said O'Connor, 'that the chances are heavily against
me.'