A GATHERING STORM.
'Oh! We had better go to dinner, then, had we not: I presume it is
about ready.'
'Stay, will you not wear this at dinner?' stooping for a pansy that
flourished among the late autumn blossoms.
'Keep if for remembrance when I am away.'
'Oh, but flowers fade; and I could only remember you for a couple of
days.'
'Why not press it between the leaves of a book?'
'Oh, I will do that; and I will remember your lecture every time
that I open the volume.'
'Thank you; but if you can't think a little bit about myself, I
don't want you to bother about my lecture. You can feast yourself in
contemplation of your loud and gorgeous friend, Mr. Ham.'
They had entered the house: and at the same moment Asters father and
Mr. Ham came in. It was quite plain that these two men were
confidential friends; for as they entered the room the host had his
arm within that of his guest, and both were so engrossed in their
subject--talking in a low tone--that they seemed for a time
unconscious of the presence of Aster and Roland. When the host did
raise his head he simply gave a cold bow to Roland; and then bestowed
a sharp glance upon his daughter. Nor was the rudeness of the host to
end here. Turning his back upon Roland he said:
'Mr. Ham and I have been discussing the Marsh, and he thinks that I
had better go on with the drainage.'
'It will bring in two years all the money expended in reclaiming
it,' put in Mr. Ham. 'Don't you think so, Aster?'
'I don't know, Mr. Ham; I really know very little about such
matters.' At this juncture Roland's temper was asserting itself under
the slight by the rude parent; so he stepped in among the trio, and
looking the girl in the face, said:
'You are quite right, Aster, not to bother your head about bogs and
swamps. Let the men attend to all that.' The father was simply
amazed; and drawing himself up to his full height he frowned upon the
young man. He said nothing, however, and to break the embarrassing
silence Aster chimed in:
'I suppose that the city girls of your acquaintance never meddle in
such matters; but the truth is, papa always consults me about these
things.'
'In the city,' retorted her father, stiffly, 'young women have other
concerns; but a girl who is to become a farmer's wife should make the
management of stock and the tillage of the soil serious subjects of
study.'
'Most certainly,' replied Roland; 'if a girl _is_ to become the
wife of a husbandman the farm should be her great concern. But I was
not aware that Aster had seriously contemplated taking such a step.'
'I presume, sir,' replied the father, his voice quivering with
displeasure,' that there are many of my daughter's affairs which she
does not feel bound to disclose to strangers.'
'I had thought that I might congratulate myself as one upon the list
of your daughter's friends. Was I not right, Aster?
'I always felt great pleasure, Mr. Gray, in regarding you as my
friend, as one of my most sincere friends. Her colour had risen as
she ended this sentence; and there was a slight tone of defiance in
her voice.
'A fact of which I was not aware,' her father replied, with still
rising choler.
'But you should not be too hard upon Aster,' put in Mr. Ham. 'Girls
thoughtlessly form friendships. You'll forgive her, I know, for this
indiscretion.' Aster turned upon him a look of infinite scorn.
'There is one indiscretion at least, Mr. Ham, for which my father
will never have to pardon me.'
'And what is that, pray, Aster?'
'For counting you upon my list of friends, sir.'
'Leave the room instantly, Aster,' her father almost shouted, while
his face was purple with rage.
When the girl withdrew Roland turned, and bowing to the host, said:
'Your conduct and your tone, sir, towards myself are so extraordinary,
so inexplicable, and so unmerited, that there is nothing for me but to
withdraw. As for this person, Mr. Ham, whom you admit to terms of such
intimacy, nothing, I assure you, but the sacred shield of your
household could have saved him from the punishment which his insolence
deserves. However, he will not always be able to shelter himself by
these walls, and by the presence of the inmates. I bid you good
morning.' So saying he walked out of the room and into the garden
where sat Aster, flushed, nervous and miserable.
'I came to say good-bye, Aster; after all that has happened it is
impossible for me to remain.'
'I am sure,' the girl said, 'that Mr. Ham must have prejudiced my
father against you or he never would have adopted such language and
such a manner towards his guest. I feel quite certain that it was not
the swamp they were discussing while alone together this afternoon,
but your character. From what I surmise of Mr. Ham I believe him
capable of traducing you; of actually inventing charges against your
reputation.'
'Could he be so infamous? This is surely not possible.'
'But it is possible; and this is the man with whom my poor father,
who really has my interests at heart, would have me link my life. For
the past four years his wishes in this respect have been horribly
plain to me. Oh, it is very dreadful, Mr. Gray; and it will be still
worse for me now that you, my friend, must henceforth be estranged
from our house.'
'But you will not marry that man, Aster, dear?' He was looking
wistfully into her beautiful eyes.
'Oh, no; I shall never do it of my own free will.'
'Farewell, Aster. Though estranged from your father and your house,
fate may some time be kind enough to let me see you. Farewell.' And
taking her hand into his he raised it reverently, tenderly, to his
lips, and imprinted upon it a warm kiss. Then he arose, bowed and
went away. For many a bitter day afterwards he remembered the mute
misery in her look as he left the garden.
That evening Roland sought out an old Eton schoolfellow, whom he
found smoking on the lawn of his uncle's house.'
'Why, you seem rather excited, old fellow; what is wrong? I thought
that the fair Aster had a monopoly of your company for this evening.'
'Yes; it had been so arranged. But I found that cad, Ham, there, and
he saw fit to insult me. You can now guess, I suppose, the nature of
my mission.'
'Hem; things are really serious then. Do you want me to help you
through with the affair?'
'If you will, old fellow. My wish is that you wait upon this person
in the morning, that he may name a friend with whom you can arrange
the meeting. Let it not be later than the following morning. He has,
of course, his choice of sword or pistol.'
'I doubt if the man will fight.'
'Then nothing will remain for me but the loathsome job of giving him
a horse-whipping. And I presume that you will not be silent as to his
cowardice.'
Early on the following morning Frank Harland, for such was the name
of Roland's friend, rode away towards Oatland's, the residence of the
coarse-haired Mr. Ham. He alighted at the gate, and throwing his
bridle rein over a post entered the grounds. Mr. Ham was at the
moment crossing the field towards his residence; but when he
perceived the early visitor he changed his course and proceeded to
meet the comer.
'Oh, how do you do, Mr. Harland? Did not know it was you. It is a
long time since we have seen each other. Was over looking at some of
my fellows who are clearing the bush of a piece of intervale. Rascals
will not work if one's eye is not constantly upon them.'
In a similar strain did he chatter on; but his ease of manner
Harland could see was only counterfeited. The early visit and the
grave face of the visitor had alarmed him; but he had not the courage
to put any of the questions that had turned his face into a note of
interrogation. At last they were at the door of the dwelling; and
Harland paused upon the steps.
'I come to you this morning, Mr. Ham, upon an important and delicate
mission; and should be glad if you would accompany me to your office
or library.'
A flush of scarlet came into Ham's face, and it was vivid through
the roots of his coarse black beard.
'Certainly; I shall attend to you with pleasure. I hope, at least,
that the matter is capable of an amicable and satisfactory settlement.
I have always sought to do what is right, and--
'I have no doubt Mr. Ham, that it can be arranged with entire
satisfaction.' With these words the visitor seated himself in the
chair to which Mr. Ham, with a hand that trembled, pointed.
'I am, sir, the bearer of a message from my old school friend,
Roland Gray. What the purport of such a message is you will no doubt
very readily guess, when you come to remember the language which you
recently employed respecting him, and the threat which your words
evoked. I am therefore ready to arrange the terms for a meeting with
any friend you may be good enough to designate.'
'I really fail to comprehend what you mean, Mr. Harland.'
'Oh that is impossible, Mr. Ham. There is a code of honour among
gentlemen under such circumstances, of which you must certainly be
aware.'
The fellow's courage had quite failed him, if the pallor in his
swarthy cheek did not utter a huge lie.
'You surely do not mean that you come to propose terms for a duel?'
'I have come just for that purpose; and shall immediately wait upon
any friend you will name to me.'
'But there must really be some mistake. I am not aware of having
used any language that could evoke the resentment of your friend.'
Harland simply shrugged his shoulders.
'I am not here to discuss that point.' And he rose with scorn upon
his face. 'I take the word of my friend upon the matter; and he is a
gentleman and a man of honour.' At this reply Mr. Ham adopted a new
line of policy, and with it a completely altered manner and tone.
'Well, Mr. Harland, suppose that it be as you say with respect to
the provocation; there is another feature of the matter which I bring
forward with reluctance, considering your relations of friendship
with Mr. Gray.' Here he paused.
'Pray, proceed sir.'
'I may say, Mr. Harland, that the repute of Mr. Gray is not the
highest; and considering my own character and standing I do not see
how it is possible for me to engage in a combat of honour with him.
My position as I have said is unquestioned; but I know nothing of
your friend save that report speaks of him as an adventurer without
character. He has had a good education, and all that, and associates
with people of my own standing; but these facts count for little.'
'Pardon me, sir,' Harland replied with a haughty smile. 'I intend
that your position in this matter shall be made very plain. I intend
to show that one matter alone stands in the way of your acceptance of
this challenge.'
'And what, pray, may that matter be?' The fellow was once more ashy
pale, and he trembled.
'Your cowardice, sir.'
'What! Do you dare in my own house to use such words?'
'I use them, of course, most deliberately. And now, sir, that you
have raised the question of the worthiness of my friend to meet you
in a combat of honour, you must first permit me to state that in
denying that fitness, every statement that you have made is a
falsehood. First, as to his blood: he is a gentleman. And I know that
in proving he is your equal in this respect, you will pardon me for
asking certain questions of you, as you will my making certain
statements of fact respecting him. Pray, sir, who was your father?'
'A gentleman. He was the owner of this property; and held the
position of magistrate in this county, as I do.' Mr. Harland bowed.
'And who, then, sir, was _his_ father?'
Mr. Ham winced; turned red; and then stood up, glaring at his
interrogator the picture of wild but impotent rage.
'I will not press the question, Mr. Ham; I will answer it. He was
what we describe as a "common person." That is, he _was not a
gentleman_.' Mr. Ham's face was dark with rage; but it soon began
to assume its ashen colour.
'Now, sir, Mr. Gray's father is a younger son of a fifth earl in the
British peerage. He is therefore by blood fit to meet in the field of
honour the grandson of a--_Nobody_. Then, sir, as to the undefined
charges against his character, they are gratuitous falsehoods. If,
with these facts before you, a refusal of satisfaction is still made,
I have only this to say: the unpleasant task of horsewhipping you
remains to my friend; while the duty of proclaiming your cowardice
remains to me. What is your answer?'
'Though your language has been such as I never believed that anybody
would dare use in my house, I am constrained to accept your statements
respecting your friend's fitness to meet me in the field of honour.'
Then, as a spasm of terror almost convulsed him, he suddenly asked:
'What weapons does he propose? I cannot fence.'
'This is a matter that your friend and I shall arrange. The choice
of weapons, however, I may add, rests with your side.'
'Then please wait till I write a note to--Jabez Drummond,' and the
fellow, taking a pen, seated himself at his desk. But his fears had
so unnerved him that he made several attempts before he could get the
pen into the ink bottle; and wasted several sheets of paper before
his hand was steady enough to produce legible writing. When he had
ended he turned to the visitor:
'Will you not take a glass of spirits before you go? Will you not
come and breakfast with me?' His cringing manner was most despicable;
and Harland answered in a tone of quiet scorn:
'No, thank you.'
Then placing the letter into Harland's hands, he said:
'Can this not be made a formal encounter? I have read that this
thing is often done.'
'What do you mean, Mr. Ham?'
'That we do not, for example, use bullets. Let it be blank charges.'
'Of course you are at liberty to do what you please in this respect,'
Harland answered, with irony. 'But we shall use bullets.'
'My God, Mr. Harland, you seem to delight in taking the part of a
monster.'
'Good morning, Mr. Ham.'
'But when, where-about what time, I mean, is this to take place?'
'That I shall arrange with your friend. But I may say that there can
be no valid reason to prevent it taking place to-morrow at the rise
of sun. Good morning, Mr. Ham,' and without further words he left the
house, mounted his horse, and rode away.