The words, spoken deliberately, but without any particular emphasis,
startled Dick quite as much as they did Major O'Teague.
"You're a coward, sir, and I will force you to fight me!" shouted
Mathews.
Dick took a couple of steps to the side of Mr. Long, and at the same
instant O'Teague took three to the side of Mathews.
"Hold your tongue, sir; leave me to manage this affair," said Major
O'Teague to his principal.
He took a step nearer Mr. Long.
"I'm afraid, sir," he said in a frigid tone and with a distinctly
English accent, which sounded very much more formal than the soft
Irish slur which came so easily to him--"I'm afraid that there's some
misunderstanding between us; but a little explanation will, I daresay,
tend to smooth away matters, and lead to such an amicable settlement
that the fight will take place as originally intended. Pray, sir, state
your reasons for saying that you're not called on to consummate the
jewel. Come, sir, your reasons."
"My reasons? This is one of them," said Mr. Long, pointing toward the
bramble hedge beside the lane.
So intent had every one been over the technicalities of the duel, none
had noticed a little figure standing there waiting for a signal--the
figure of a little boy. When Mr. Long raised his arm and pointed
toward him, he began to run to the group, and now all eyes were turned
upon him. He was a pretty child of perhaps eight or nine years of age,
and while he ran he kept calling out:
"Daddy, daddy, I'se come, I'se come!"
No one in the group moved, and the little boy ran toward Mathews
with outstretched arms. He had almost reached him before Mathews had
recovered from the astonishment that had left his face pale. He stepped
back, saying:
"Take the brat away! What demon brought him hither? Take him away, I
say, before I do him a hurt."
"'Tis not a demon that brings the like of that to men," said O'Teague.
Then, putting out his hands to the little boy, he cried, "Come hither,
my little man, and tell us what is your name."
The child stopped and gazed with wondering eyes at Major O'Teague, who
was kneeling on one knee, with inviting hands stretched forth.
"Mammy said for I to run to daddy," lisped the little fellow, and he
looked round, putting a tiny thumb in his mouth.
"Take the brat away, or I shall do it a hurt," shouted Mathews.
The child shrank back, and a frightened look came to his face.
"I'se good to-day, pappy," he said. "I'se very good. I'se did what
mammy told. She said, 'Go to pappy,' and I'se goed."
Mathews, his hands clenched, took a step in the direction of Mr. Long,
and Dick took a step in the direction of Mathews.
"Coward!" said the last named. "Coward! this is how you would shirk the
fight that you owe me. You have brought them here."
"Yes, I brought them here--all your family," said Mr. Long. "And--yes,
I own to being a coward; I own that I shrink from standing up with a
deadly weapon in my hand before the husband of an estimable lady and
the father of an innocent child. Captain Mathews, you are aware of the
fact that I am acquainted with some compromising incidents in your
past life. I do not wish you ill, sir. I implore of you to be advised
in time. Return to your home, and make an honest attempt to redeem the
past."
"I will--I will--when I have seen you lying dead at my feet,"
said Mathews. Then, turning to the others of the party, he cried:
"Gentlemen, are we here to be made fools of? Let the affair proceed, or
let Mr. Long and his friend make up their minds to be branded in public
as cowards and poltroons."
"Major O'Teague," said Dick, "you cannot possibly have known that
Captain Mathews, while professing honourable intentions in regard to a
lady in Bath, was all the time a married man?"
"I acknowledge that that is the truth, Mr. Sheridan," said Major
O'Teague; "but you'll pardon me if I say that I can't for the life of
me see what that disclosure has to do with the matter before us."
"What, sir, you don't think that a gentleman should be exempted from
fighting with so unscrupulous an adventurer as, on your own admission,
Captain Mathews has proved to be?" said Dick.
"Upon my soul, I don't, Mr. Sheridan," said O'Teague. "On the contrary,
sir, it appears to me that a man who behaved so dishonourably as my
friend Captain Mathews has done, makes a most suitable antagonist for a
gentleman of honour like Mr. Long or yourself, sir."
Mr. MacMahon, the stranger who had come to witness the fight, had taken
the little boy by the hand, and was leading him up the meadow away from
the men; and every now and again the child looked over his shoulder
with big, puzzled eyes. He was asking a perpetual question.
"Sir," said Dick, with great promptitude when O'Teague had
spoken--"Sir, I give you my word that I have no objection to fight
Captain Mathews myself."
"No," cried Mr. Long. "No laws of honour demand that a gentleman shall
stand up before a felon."
"True, sir," said Major O'Teague; "but you see, nothing that Captain
Mathews has yet done can be construed as an act of felony."
"Indeed, sir, Captain Mathews and I know better than that," said Mr.
Long.
"'Tis a lie--I swear that 'tis a foul lie!" shouted Mathews. "I admit
that years ago---- But there were no proofs that the girl did not die
by her own hands. She did it to be revenged upon me. Have you proofs?
If you have, pray produce them."
"I have proof enough to send you to the hangman," said Mr. Long.
"Sir," said Major O'Teague, "I did not come hither to listen to such
recrimination. You must be aware, Mr. Long, that you have seriously
compromised your position as a man of honour by making a vague charge
against your opponent a pretext for backing out of a fight with him.
If a man was a fool years ago--well, which of us hasn't been a fool at
some time of our life?"
"Sir," said Mr. Long, "I do not need to be instructed on points of
honour by you or any one else. I did not refer to your friend's felony
of four years ago, but to a much more recent act of his."
"Let us have your proofs, sir, or, by Hivins, my felonious friend will
have my assistance in branding you as a coward!" cried Major O'Teague.
Mr. Long was holding between his finger and thumb a small piece of lace
before the man had done speaking.
"This is my proof," he said.
Major O'Teague stared at him and then at Dick Sheridan. He saw that
Dick was as much puzzled as himself.
"In the name of all that's sensible----" he began.
"The fellow is a fool," cried Mathews. "Ay, a fool as well as a coward."
"In the name of all that's sensible, Mr. Long, tell us what it is you
mean at all," said O'Teague. "What in the name of all the Hivins do you
mean by showing us that rag?"
"This piece of lace is a souvenir that your friend left with me of our
last encounter. Look at the torn ruffle of his right sleeve, sir. I
think you will find that the rent needs for its repair this piece of
lace which I hold in my hand."
"Sir, I heard of no encounter," said Major O'Teague.
"Then you would do well to get your friend to acquaint you with some of
its details," said Mr. Long.
Major O'Teague, mystified to a point of distraction, turned to Mathews;
but he failed to catch his eye, the fact being that Mathews was gazing
at Mr. Long as a man gazes at another who has just amazed him by a
sudden revelation.
"Am I asleep or awake--that's what I want to know?" cried Major
O'Teague. "And I want to know it badly too, for what's the drift of all
these hints and all this aimless talk baffles me. Look you here, Mr.
Long, you tell me you crossed swords with Captain Mathews quite lately;
well, sir, if that is the truth, will you tell me why you should object
to fight with him now?"
"Sir," said Mr. Long, "Mr. Mathews was in the disguise of a footpad on
that road between those trees and the iron gate opposite, and I fought
for my life against him and his two confederates."
Major O'Teague did not allow any one to see how startled he was. He
stroked his chin and pursed out his lips. There was a long pause before
he said:
"And that is the evidence you bring forward of a very remarkable
affair, sir--that scrap of rag?"
"Psha! sir, I have as much evidence of that remarkable affair as would
suffice to hang the dean and chapter of a cathedral!" said Mr. Long.
"Pray give us an example of it, sir," said the major. "Juries in this
country don't hang even dogs, to say nothing of deans, on the evidence
of a scrap of rag."
"That's it," said Mathews; his voice was a trifle husky--he had not
had much practice in speaking for some minutes. "That's it!--Major
O'Teague, you are my friend: I ask no better friend. Let the fellow
produce his evidence."
"I will," said Mr. Long.
He took a few steps toward the trees around the knoll where Dick had
fancied he saw some figures moving. He raised a finger, and at this
signal two men clad in homespun hastened down the meadow.
Mathews' jaw fell.
"One of these men was Mathews' confederate, the other is an honester
man; he is the shepherd who lay concealed among the brambles yonder
when Mathews and his bravos waited for me in this very place. He saw
the fight, but having no weapon, he was wise enough to refrain from
interfering in what did not concern him. He was fortunate enough,
however, to pick up the shoe which came off Mathews' foot in his hasty
flight from my friend, Mr. Sheridan, so that----"
A shout of warning came from Major O'Teague's friend, MacMahon, and
the next second a sword went flashing through the air a dozen yards
away, and Dick Sheridan, breathing hard, stood with his own sword in
his hand. He had been just in time to disarm Mathews, who had drawn his
sword and rushed with it upon Mr. Long.
And while every one stood aghast for the moment, there came forth from
the plantation of trees a well-dressed lady, leading by the hand the
little boy who had been on the scene before. She walked slowly across
the meadow to the group, and every one looked at her.
The sword that had been jerked out of Mathews' hand remained nodding,
like a reed before the wind, with its hilt in the air, for the point
had penetrated the soft turf an inch or two, at such an acute angle as
made the steel top-heavy at the hilt.
No one had the presence of mind to call Mathews an assassin, but all
removed their hats at the approach of the lady.
She was smiling.
"Good-morning, gentlemen," she said, responding to their respectful
salutations. "I perceive that my dear husband has been at his tricks
again. He has been passing himself off at Bath as a gay bachelor, I
hear, and the people were fools enough to be taken in by him; and all
the time he was writing to me such loving letters, and sending them to
the North to be posted. He made out that he was recruiting in Kendal,
the sly rogue!"
She gave a laugh, pointing an upbraiding finger at Mathews. Clearly
she was not greatly put out by anything that had yet come under her
notice,--she seemed more inclined to regard the escapade of which
her husband was guilty, in the light of a piece of pleasantry, to be
referred to with smiles; but the only one of the party who responded to
her in a like spirit was Major O'Teague.
"O madam!" he cried, "he is indeed a sad dog--quite inexcusable,
madam--oh, altogether inexcusable! For I vow that, however leniently
disposed his friends may have been in regard to his freak before they
had seen the lady whom he forsook, they cannot condone his offence now
that they have been so happy as to make her acquaintance. Madam, the
man that could leave you for--for--the frivolities of Bath deserves no
sympathy."
[Illustration: A well-dressed lady ... walked slowly across the meadow
to the group. [_page 288._]
"Sir, you are, I protest, vastly polite," said Mrs. Mathews; "but I am
sure you will not be hard upon poor Captain Mathews' frailties. 'Tis
his misfortune to be over-susceptible to the charms of new faces. Who
can blame him when the trait was born with him? After all, constancy is
an acquired virtue."
"True, madam, quite true," said Major O'Teague. "But, Mrs. Mathews, I
beg of you to permit me to say that if a gentleman who is fortunate
enough to be married to so charming a lady as yourself does not acquire
constancy, we may well distrust your theory."
"I vow, sir, you overwhelm a simple country-bred woman with your
flattery," said she. "But I see that Mr. Long and his friends are
feeling bored by our philosophy. Still, I should like to ask Mr. Long
if his experience can suggest better advice to a woman married to so
erratic a gentleman as Captain Mathews than to make the best of a bad
bargain? Lud, sir, to spend my days weeping on a bed because of my
husband's peccadilloes would only be to make myself miserable, without
improving him. After all, he doesn't annoy me much. I have a fortune
of my own and two sweet children, and he is a good deal from home,
so that I have much to be thankful for. Come along, captain: you see
that no one here wishes to fight with you. Perhaps at home you will
have a better chance. A husband, if he keeps his eyes open, can always
find some one at home to quarrel with. At the worst, there are always
servants to be sworn at. 'Tis a great ease to a man's mind to know that
he can always curse a groom or a wife or a dog without being called to
account. Come along, captain; you have still got your grooms and your
wife left to you. You know as well as I do that if you succeeded in
captivating a young beauty at Bath--though I haven't seen much of this
beauty--you would swear at her within the month as heartily as you do
at me."
Mathews looked quite ready to swear at her at that moment. He
restrained himself, however, and, after only a short pause, went
hastily to where his sword was still swaying on its point. He drew it
out of the wound it had made in the earth, and rammed it back into its
sheath. Then he took the shortest route to the gate; only when he was
passing the line of trees in the plantation did he turn and glance back
at the group whom he had left. The expression upon his face was one of
disappointed malice; no trace of repentance was to be seen there.
With a laugh, his wife followed him, the golden-haired little boy
running by her side. She cast an apologetic glance at the gentlemen,
and they all made profound bows.
"Major O'Teague, I ask your pardon, sir, for having caused you to come
here on a business which I knew must prove fruitless," said Mr. Long.
"Sir," said Major O'Teague, "I think that if there's to be an apology
it should come from me. But I give you my word of honour, sir, I had
no idea that the fellow was such a rascal: he has only been acquainted
with me for three days. I guessed that he was bad enough. But think of
that last _coup_ of his, sir--trying to run you through the body while
you were speaking! By my soul, Mr. Long, 'tis something of a pity that
he was obstructed in time, for 'twould be a pleasure to all of us to
see him hanged for such an act."
"I fear that I could not have shared that pleasure," said Mr. Long.
"And pray why not, sir, when you would know that the fellow was the
greatest rascal unhung?" cried Major O'Teague.
"Perhaps I am too tender-hearted, sir," said Mr. Long, "but truth
compels me to assure you that I could not bear to see a man hanged
merely for killing me."
"Faith, and you are mighty compassionate, sir," said Major O'Teague.
"I give you my word that there's no sight I would enjoy so much as
the hanging of the man that had killed me by a mortal wound when my
attention was diverted elsewhere."