“_An animal I should define as a man who fights in a sensible way for a
reasonable end._”
[Illustration: 9156]
XTRACT from my journal at this time:
“Wednesday Night.
“All is arranged. Tonks and Shafthead have endeavored to dissuade
us, but words have passed that cannot be overlooked, and Lumme is as
resolute to fight as I. I must do him that credit. At last, seeing
that we are determined, they have consented to act if we will leave all
arrangements in their hands. We are both of us willing, and all we know
is that we meet at daybreak to-morrow in a place to be selected by our
seconds. Even the weapons have not yet been decided. Should I fall and
this writing pass into the hands of others, I wish them to know that
these two gentlemen, Mr. La Rabide, Shafthead and Mr. Tonks, have done
their best to procure a bloodless issue. In these circumstances I also
wish Mr. Lumme to know that I fully forgive him.
“My will is now made, and Halfred is remembered in it. Another, too,
will not find herself forgotten. My watch and chain and my signet-ring I
have bequeathed to Amy. Farewell, dear maiden! Do not altogether forget
me!
“Halfred is perturbed, poor fellow, at the chance of losing a master
whom, I think, he has already learned to venerate. Yet he has a fine
spirit, and it is his chief regret that the etiquette of the duel will
not permit him to be a spectator.
“'Aim at 'is wind, sir,' he advised me. 'That oughter double 'im up if
you gets 'im fair. And perhaps, sir, if you was to give 'im the second
barrel somewhere about the point of 'is jaw, sir, things would be made
more certain-like.'
“'And what if he aims at these places himself?' I asked.
“'Duck, sir, the minute you see 'im a-pulling of his trigger--like this,
sir.'
“He showed me how to 'duck' scientifically, and I gravely thanked him.
I had not the heart to tell how different are the fatal circumstances of
the duel, his devotion touched me so. I have told him to lay out my best
dark suit, a white shirt, my patent-leather boots, and a black tie that
will not make a mark for the bullet. He is engaged at present in packing
the rest of my things, for, whatever the issue, I cannot stay longer
here. Farewell again. Amy! Now I shall write to my friends in France,
and warn them of the possibilities that may arise. Then to bed!”
I have given this extract at length, that it may be seen how grave we
all considered the situation, and also to disprove the common idea that
Englishmen do not regard the duel seriously. They are, however, a nation
of sportsmen, whose warfare is waged against the “furs and feathers.”
and the refinements of single combat practised elsewhere are little
appreciated, as will presently appear.
It was scarcely yet daylight when I left my room, and with a little
difficulty made my way along dim corridors and down shadowy stairs to
the garden door, by which it had been decided we could most stealthily
escape to the rendezvous. Through the trimmed evergreens and the paths
where the leaf-fall of the night still lay unswept I picked my course
upon a quiet foot that left plain traces in the dew, but made no sound
to rouse the sleeping house. A wicket-gate led me out into the park, and
there I followed a path towards an oak paling that formed the boundary
along that side. At the end of this path a gate in the paling took me
into a narrow lane, and this gate was to be our rendezvous.
As I advanced, I saw between the trees a solitary figure leaning against
the paling, and I was assured that my adversary at least had not failed
me. Looking back, I next caught sight of the seconds following me, and
I delayed my steps so that I only reached Lumme a minute or so before
them. We raised our hats and bowed in silence. He looked pale, but I
could not deny that his expression was full of spirit, and I felt for
him that respect which a brave man always inspires in one of my martial
race.
His costume I certainly took exception to, for, instead of the decorous
garments called for by the occasion, he was attired in a light check
suit, with leather leggings and a pale-blue waistcoat, and, indeed,
rather suggested a morning's sport than the business we had come upon.
This, however, might be set down to his inexperience, and, as a matter
of fact, he was outdone by our seconds, for, in addition to wearing
somewhat similar clothes, they each carried a gun and a cartridge-bag.
Evidently, I thought, they had brought these to disarm suspicion in
case the party were observed. Their demeanor was beyond reproach, and,
indeed, surprising, considering that they had never before acted
either as principals or seconds. They raised their hats and bowed with
formality.
“Good-morning, gentlemen,” said Shafthead.
He took the lead throughout, my second, Tonks, concurring in everything
he said.
“You still wish to fight?”
Lumme and I both bowed.
“You both refuse to settle your differences amicably?”
“I refuse,” replied Lumme.
“And I, certainly,” I said.
“Very well,” said Dick, “it only remains to assure you that the loser
will be decently interred.”
Here both he and Tonks were obviously affected by a very natural
emotion; with a distinct effort he cleared his throat and resumed:
“And to tell you the conditions of the combat. Here are the weapons.”
Conceive our astonishment when we were each solemnly handed a
double-barrelled shot-gun and a bagful of No. 5 cartridges! Even Lumme
recognized the unsuitability of these firearms.
“I say, hang it!” he exclaimed; “I'm not going to fight with these!”
“Tonks, I protest!” I said, warmly. “This is absurd.”
“Only things you're going to get,” replied Tonks, stolidly.
“Gentlemen,” said Shafthead, with more courtesy, “you have agreed to
fight in any method we decide. If you back out now we can only suppose
that you are afraid of getting hurt--and in that case why do you fight
at all?”
“All right, then,” replied Lumme, with an _élan_ I must give him every
credit for; “I'm game.”
“And I am in your hands,” said I, with a shrug that was intended to
protest, not against the danger, but the absurdity of the weapons. “At
what distance do we stand?”
“In that matter we propose to introduce another novelty” replied Dick.
“To make it more sporting,” explained Tonks. “Just so,” said Dick. “You
see that plantation? We are going to put one of you in one end and the
other in the other; you have each fifty cartridges, and you can fire
as soon as you meet and as often as you please. One of the seconds will
remain at either end to welcome the survivor.”
“Oh, that's not a bad idea,” said Lumme, brightening up.
I had my own opinion on this unheard-of innovation, but I kept it to
myself.
“Now you toss for ends,” said Tonks. “Call.” He spun a shilling, and
Lumme called “Heads.”
“Heads it is,” said Tonks. “Which end?”
“It doesn't make much difference, I suppose,” replied Teddy. “I'll start
from this end.”
“Right you are,” said Dick. “Au revoir, monsieur. When you are ready to
enter the wood fire a cartridge to let us know. Here is an extra one I
have left for signalling.”
I bowed and followed my second across the lane and through a narrow gate
in a high hedge that bounded the side farthest from the park. Lumme was
left with Shafthead in the lane to make his way to the nearest end
of the wood, so that I should see no more of him till we met gun to
shoulder in the thickets. I confess that at that moment I could think
only of our past friendship and his genial virtues, and it was with a
great effort that I forced myself to recall his insults and harden my
heart.
We now walked down a long field shut in by trees on either hand. At the
farther end from the lane these plantations almost met, so that they
and the hedge enclosed the field all the way round except for one narrow
gap. Here Tonks stopped and turned.
“You enter here,” he said, indicating the wood on the right-hand side of
this gap, “and you work your way back till you meet him. By-the-way,
if you happen to hear shots anywhere else pay no attention. The keeper
often comes out after rabbits in the early morning.”
“But if he hears us?” I asked.
“Oh, we've made that right He knows we are out shooting. Good luck.”
I would at least have clasped the hand of possibly the last man I should
ever talk with. I should have left some message, said something; but
with the phlegmatic coolness of his nation he had turned away before
I had time to reply. For a moment I watched him strolling nonchalantly
from me with his hands in his pockets, and then I fired my gun in the
air and stepped into the trees.
Well, it might be an unorthodox method of duelling, but there could be
no questioning the element of hazard and excitement. Here was I at
one end of a narrow belt of trees, not thirty yards wide and nearly a
quarter of a mile in length, and from the other came a man seeking my
life. Every moment must bring us nearer together, till before long each
thicket, each tree-stem, might conceal the muzzle of his gun. And the
trees and undergrowth were dense enough to afford shelter to a whole
company.
Three plans only were possible. First, I might remain where I was and
trust to catching him unnerved, and perhaps careless, at the end of a
long and fruitless search. But this I dismissed at once as unworthy of
a man of spirit, and, indeed, impossible for my temperament. Secondly,
I might advance at an even pace and probably meet him about the middle.
This also I dismissed as being the procedure he would naturally expect
me to adopt. Finally, I might advance with alacrity and encounter him
before I was expected. And this was the scheme I adopted.
At a good pace I pushed my way through the branches and the thorns,
wishing now, I must confess, that I had adopted a costume more suitable
for this kind of warfare, till I had turned the corner of the field and
advanced for a little distance up the long side. While I was walking
down with Tonks I had taken the precaution of noting a particularly
large pine which seemed as nearly as possible the half-way mark, but now
a disconcerting reflection struck me. That pine was, indeed, half-way
down the side of the field, but I had also had half of the end to
traverse, so that the point at which we should meet, going at a similar
pace, would be considerably nearer than I had calculated. Supposing,
then, that Lumme was also hastening to meet me, he might even now be
close at hand! I crouched behind a thorn-bush and listened.
It was a still, delightful morning; the sun just risen; the air fresh;
no motion in the branches. Every little sound could be distinctly heard,
and presently I heard one; a something moving in another thicket not ten
paces away. I raised my gun, aimed carefully, and pulled the trigger.
The stealthy sound ceased, and instead a pheasant flew screaming out of
the wood. No longer could there be any doubt of my position. I
executed a strategic retreat for a short distance to upset my enemy's
calculations and waited for his approach. But I heard nothing except two
or three shots from the plantation across the field, where the keeper
had evidently begun his shooting. I advanced again, though more
cautiously, but in a very short time was brought to a sudden stand-still
by a movement in a branch overhead. The diabolical thought flashed
through my mind, “He is aiming at me from a tree!”
Instantly I raised my gun and discharged both barrels into the leaves.
There came down, not Lumme, but a squirrel; yet the incident inspired
me with an idea. I chose a suitable tree, and, having scrambled up with
some difficulty (which was not lessened by the thought that I might be
shot in the act), I waited for my rival to pass below.
[Illustration: 0166]
Five minutes passed--ten--fifteen. I heard more shots from the keeper's
gun. I slew two foxes and a pheasant which were ill-advised enough to
make a suspicious stir in the undergrowth; but not a sign of Lumme. I
had not even heard him fire one shot since the duel began. Some mystery
here, evidently. Perhaps he was waiting patiently for me to approach
within a few paces of the lane whence he started. And I--should I court
his cartridges by falling into a trap I had thought of laying myself?
Yet one of us must move, or we should be the laughing-stock of the
country-side, and if one of two must attack, the brave man can be in no
doubt as to which that is. I descended, and with infinite precautions
slowly pushed my way forward, raking with my shot every bush that might
conceal a foe. Suddenly between the trees I saw a man--undoubtedly a man
this time. I put my hand in my cartridge-bag. One cartridge remaining,
besides two in my chambers; three cartridges against a man who had still
left fifty! Yet three would be sufficient if I could but get them home.
Carefully I crept on my hands and knees to within a dozen paces; then
I raised my head, and behold! it was Tonks I saw standing in the lane
leaning against the paling of the park! But Lumme? Ah, I had it. He had
fled!
Shouldering my gun, I stepped out of the wood.
“Hillo!” cried Tonks. “Bagged him?”
“No,” I said.
“Been hit?” he asked. “You look in rather a mess.”
And indeed I did, for my clothes had been rent by the thorns, my face
and my hands torn, and doubtless I showed also some mental signs of the
ordeal I had been through. For remember that though I had not met an
adversary, I had braved the risk of it at every step. And I had made
those steps.
“No,” I replied. “I have not even been fired at.”
“I heard a regular cannonade,” he said.
“Forty-seven times have I fired at a venture,” I answered. “And I have
not been inaccurate in my aim. In that wood you will find the bodies of
four squirrels, five pheasants, and two foxes.”
“But where is Lumme?” he inquired.
“Fled,” I replied, with an intonation of contempt I could not conceal.
“What! funked it?”
“I saw no sign of him.”
“By Jove! that's bad,” said Tonks, though in so matter-of-course a
tone that I was astonished. A man of a sluggish spirit, I fear, was my
cricketing second.
“Let us call Shafthead,” I said. “For myself, my honor is satisfied, and
I shall leave him and you to deal with the runaway.”
We walked together along the lane till we came to the gate in the hedge
through which we had started for the wood. Through this we could see
right down the field, and there, coming towards us, walked Shafthead and
Lumme.
“The devil!” I exclaimed.
“By Jove!” said Tonks.
“Can you explain this?” I asked him.
“I? No; unless you passed each other.”
“Passed!” I cried, scornfully.
I threw the gate open and advanced to meet them. To my surprise, Lumme
looked at me with no sign of shame, but rather with indignation.
“Well,” he cried to me, “you're a fine man to fight a duel. Been in a
ditch?”
“Poltroon!” I replied. “Where did you hide yourself?”
“I hide?” said he. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Do you mean to tell me that you men never met?” asked Shafthead.
“Never!” we cried together.
“Tonks,” said he, “into which plantation did you put your man?”
“The right-hand one,” said Tonks.
“The right!” exclaimed Dick. “Then you have been in different woods! Oh,
Tonks, this is scandalous!”
But my second had already turned his head away, and seemed so bowed by
contrition that my natural anger somewhat relented.
“Possibly your own directions were not clear,” I suggested.
“Ah,” said Dick, “I see how it was! He must have turned round, and that
made his right hand his left.”
“Well,” said Lumme, “you've made a nice mess of it. What's to be done
now?”
[Illustration: 0169]
“I am in my second's hands,” I replied.
“And I think you've fought enough,” said Tonks. “How many cartridges did
you fire, Lumme?”
“Thirty-two,” said he.
“Well, hang it, you've loosed seventy-nine cartridges between you, and
that's more than any other duellists I ever heard of. Let's pull up the
sticks * and come in to breakfast.”
* “Pull up sticks”--a football metaphor.--D'H.
“Is honor satisfied?” asked Dick, who had more appreciation of the
delicacies of such a sentiment than my prosaic second.
Lumme and I glanced at each other, and we remembered now our past
intimacy; also, perhaps, the strain of that fruitless search for each
other among those thorny woods.
“Mine is,” said Lumme.
“Mine also,” said I.
And thus ended what so nearly was a fatal encounter.
[Illustration: 8000]