_Frank Henley to Oliver Trenchard_
_Paris, Hotel de l'Universite_
Some events have happened, since I wrote to thee, on which I meant to
have been silent, till we had met; but I want thy advice on a new
incident, and must therefore briefly relate what has passed. I have had
an opportunity of appeasing that hungry vanity, which is continually
craving after unwholesome food. I have proved to Clifton that it was
not fear which made me submit to obloquy, which in his opinion could
only be washed away in blood. I have been instrumental in saving his
life.
There is a half lunatic count, who was a visitor at the Chateau, and
who is enamoured of her whom all are obliged to love and admire. I know
not whether it be their climate, their food, their wine, or these
several causes combining and strengthened by habit, or whether it be
habit and education only which give the natives of the south of France
so much apparently constitutional ardour; but such the fact appears to
be. This count is one of the most extravagant of all the hot-brained
race I have mentioned. He indulges and feeds his flighty fancy by
reading books of chivalry, and admiring the most romantic of the
imaginary feats of knight-errantry.
The too haughty Clifton, angry that he should dare to address her to
whom he openly paid his court, fell into habitual contests with him,
daring him to shew who could be most desperate, and at last gave a
tolerably strong proof that, though he has an infinitely more
consistent mind, he can be at moments more mad than the count himself.
He leaped down a rock into a lake, where it is probable he must have
perished, but for me.
One would have imagined that what followed would have cooled even a
Marseillian fever of such phrensy. But no: the count has been brooding
over the recollection, till he had persuaded himself he was a
dishonoured man, and must find some means to do away the disgrace. I
thought him gone to Fontainebleau; but instead of that he has just been
here. He came and inquired of the servants for the monsieur who had
taken the famous leap; cursing all English names, as too barbarous to
be understood by a delicate Provencal ear, and wholly incapable of
being remembered. The servants, thinking he meant me, for I was obliged
to leap too, introduced him to my apartment.
Luckily Clifton was out for the day. She and Sir Arthur were with
him. I am hourly put to the trial, Oliver, of seeing him
preferred--But--Pshaw--
After a torrent of crazy compliments from the count, who professes to
admire me, I learned at last it was Clifton and not me he wanted; and I
also learned in part what was the purport of his errand. His mind was
too full not to overflow. Knowing how hot, unruly, and on such subjects
irrational, the spirits were that were in danger of encountering, I was
immediately alarmed. The most effectual expedient I could conceive to
prevent mischief was to shew its actual absurdity. I saw no better way
than that of making it appear, as it really was, its tragical
consequences excepted, ludicrous. But the difficulty was to give it the
colouring which should produce that effect on a mind so distorted.
_Mort de ma vie!_ said the count, I shall never pardon myself for
having lost so fine an opportunity! I am not so heavy as he. I should
not have been hurt by the fall. I should have saved the life of my
rival, and been admired by the whole world! My triumph would have been
complete! Every gazette in Europe would have trumpeted the exploit; and
the family of Beaunoir would have been rendered famous, by me, to all
eternity! No! I never shall forgive myself!
I think, sir, you ought rather to be angry with me than with Mr.
Clifton.
_Parbleu!_ I have been thinking of that. Why did you prevent me? The
thought could not long have escaped me, if you had not been in such
devilish haste!
True. The only danger was that, while you were waiting for the thought,
the gentleman might have been drowned.
_Diable m'emporte_! I had forgotten that. Well then, I must have
satisfaction of Monsieur Calif--Morbleu!--What is the gentleman's name?
[I wish I could confide enough in my French to write the dialogue in
the language in which it passed; but I must not attempt it. The ideas
however are tolerably strong in my memory, and they must suffice.]
Clifton.
_Oui da_--Califton--Monsieur Califton must give me satisfaction for the
_sanglante_ affront I have received.
But I cannot conceive, sir, how any man's thinking proper to kill
himself can be an affront to another.
_Comment, Monsieur? Peste!_ But it is, if he kill himself to prove me a
coward!
Then, sir, I am afraid there is not a madman in Bedlam who does not
daily affront the whole world.
How so, sir?
By doing something which no man in his senses dare imitate.
_Nom d'un Dieu! Monsieur_, I am a man of honour! The family of Beaunoir
is renowned for its noble feats, it shall not be disgraced by me. I
have been defied, and I will have satisfaction.
But you were not defied to sword, or pistol. You were defied to leap.
Well, sir?
And before, as a man of honour, you can have any right to give a second
challenge, you must answer the first.
Is that your opinion, sir?
Nay, I appeal to yourself.
_Allons_!--If so, I must leap! Will you do me the favour to accompany
me? I will order post-horses instantly. You shall be my witness that I
perform the first condition.
Can you swim?
_Ventrebleu_! What a question! I am not heavy enough to sink. Besides,
sir, I was born at Marseilles.--Yes, we will go together; you shall see
me make the leap; after which I may then return and publish my defiance
to the whole universe.
No, sir! If you leap you will never publish your defiance!
How so?
You will be killed! The whole universe could not save you!
_Comment, diable_! Look at me! Look at Monsieur Calif! I am as light
as--! _Peste_!
Yes; but you are not so strong as he: you cannot leap so far. His
effort was prodigious! I have examined the place: and, had he fallen
half a foot short of where he did, he must have been dashed to pieces.
_Fer et feu_!--In that case, I must die!--Yes, I must die! There is no
remedy! I must not dishonour my family! No man on earth must brave the
Count de Beaunoir! I must die!
And be laughed at?
Laugh, sir! _Mort de ma vie_! Who will dare to laugh? When you are
dead, of what should they be afraid?
_Morbleu_! That's true.
He would be a rash fool who should dare to laugh at you while you are
living.
_Foi d'un honnête homme, monsieur_, you are a man of honour: a
gentleman. You are brave yourself, and know how to honour brave men,
and I esteem you.