I STUMBLE INTO A GREAT FOLLY.
I never breathed a word about the night's doings, nor for divers
reasons did Ringan; but the story got about, and the young fools were
the laughing-stock of the place. But there was a good deal of wrath,
too, that a trader should have presumed so far, and I felt that things
were gathering to a crisis with me. Unless I was to suffer endlessly
these petty vexations, I must find a bold stroke to end them. It
annoyed me that when so many grave issues were in the balance I should
have these troubles, as if a man should be devoured by midges when
waiting on a desperate combat.
The crisis came sooner than I looked for. There was to be a great
horse-racing at Middle Plantation the next Monday, which I had half a
mind to attend, for, though I cared nothing for the sport, it would
give me a chance of seeing some of our fellows from the York River. One
morning I met Elspeth in the street of James Town, and she cried
laughingly that she looked to see me at the races. After that I had no
choice but go; so on the Monday morning I dressed myself with care,
mounted my best horse, and rode to the gathering.
'Twas a pretty sight to see the spacious green meadow, now a little
yellowing with the summer heat, set in the girdle of dark and leafy
forest. I counted over forty chariots which had brought the rank of the
countryside, each with its liveried servant and its complement of
outriders. The fringe of the course blazed with ladies' finery, and a
tent had been set up with a wide awning from which the fashionables
could watch the sport. On the edge of the woods a multitude of horses
were picketed, and there were booths that sold food and drink,
merry-go-rounds and fiddlers, and an immense concourse of every
condition of folk, black slaves and water-side Indians, squatters from
the woods, farmers from all the valleys, and the scum and ruck of the
plantations. I found some of my friends, and settled my business with
them, but my eyes were always straying to the green awning where I knew
that Elspeth sat.
I am no judge of racing, but I love the aspect of sleek, slim horses,
and I could applaud a skill in which I had no share. I can keep my
seat on most four-legged beasts, but my horsemanship is a clumsy,
rough-and-ready affair, very different from the effortless grace of your
true cavalier. Mr. Grey's prowess, especially, filled me with awe. He
would leap an ugly fence without moving an inch in his saddle, and both
in skill and the quality of his mounts he was an easy victor. The sight
of such accomplishments depressed my pride, and I do not think I would
have ventured near the tent had it not been for the Governor.
He saw me on the fringe of the crowd, and called me to him. "What
bashfulness has taken you to-day, sir?" he cried, "That is not like
your usual. There are twenty pretty dames here who pine for a word from
you."
I saw his purpose well enough. He loved to make mischief, and knew that
the sight of me among the Virginian gentry would infuriate my
unfriends. But I took him at his word and elbowed my way into the
enclosure.
Then I wished to Heaven I had stayed at home. I got insolent glances
from the youths, and the cold shoulder from the ladies. Elspeth smiled
when she saw me, but turned the next second to gossip with her little
court. She was a devout lover of horses, and had eyes for nothing but
the racing. Her cheeks were flushed, and it was pretty to watch her
excitement; how she hung breathless on the movements of the field, and
clapped her hands at a brave finish. Pretty, indeed, but exasperating
to one who had no part in that pleasant company.
I stood gloomily by the rail at the edge of the ladies' awning, acutely
conscious of my loneliness. Presently Mr. Grey, whose racing was over,
came to us, and had a favour pinned in his coat by Elspeth's fingers.
He was evidently high in her good graces, for he sat down by her and
talked gleefully. I could not but admire his handsome eager face, and
admit with a bitter grudge that you would look long to find a comelier
pair.
All this did not soothe my temper, and after an hour of it I was in
desperate ill-humour with the world. I had just reached the conclusion
that I had had as much as I wanted, when I heard Elspeth's voice
calling me.
"Come hither, Mr. Garvald," she said. "We have a dispute which a third
must settle. I favour the cherry, and Mr. Grey fancies the blue; but I
maintain that blue crowds cherry unfairly at the corners. Use your
eyes, sir, at the next turning."
I used my eyes, which are very sharp, and had no doubt of it.
"That is a matter for the Master of the Course," said Mr. Grey. "Will
you uphold your view before him, sir?"
I said that I knew too little of the sport to be of much weight as a
witness. To this he said nothing, but offered to wager with me on the
result of the race, which was now all but ending. "Or no," said he, "I
should not ask you that. A trader is careful of his guineas."
Elspeth did not hear, being intent on other things, and I merely
shrugged my shoulders, though my fingers itched for the gentleman's
ears.
In a little the racing ceased, and the ladies made ready to leave.
Doctor Blair appeared, protesting that the place was not for his cloth,
and gave Elspeth his arm to escort her to his coach. She cried a merry
good-day to us, and reminded Mr. Grey that he had promised to sup with
them on the morrow. When she had gone I spied a lace scarf which she
had forgotten, and picked it up to restore it.
This did not please the other. He snatched it from me, and when I
proposed to follow, tripped me deftly, and sent me sprawling among the
stools. As I picked myself up, I saw him running to overtake the
Blairs.
This time there was no discreet girl to turn the edge of my fury. All
the gibes and annoyances of the past months rushed into my mind, and
set my head throbbing. I was angry, but very cool with it all, for I
saw that the matter had now gone too far for tolerance. Unless I were
to be the butt of Virginia, I must assert my manhood.
I nicked the dust from my coat, and walked quietly to where Mr. Grey
was standing amid a knot of his friends, who talked of the races and
their losses and gains. He saw me coming, and said something which made
them form a staring alley, down which I strolled. He kept regarding me
with bright, watchful eyes.
"I have been very patient, sir," I said, "but there is a limit to what
a man may endure from a mannerless fool." And I gave him a hearty slap
on the face.
Instantly there was a dead silence, in which the sound seemed to linger
intolerably. He had grown very white, and his eyes were wicked.
"I am obliged to you, sir," he said. "You are some kind of ragged
gentleman, so no doubt you will give me satisfaction."
"When and where you please," I said sedately.
"Will you name your friend now?" he asked. "These matters demand quick
settlement."
To whom was I to turn? I knew nobody of the better class who would act
for me. For a moment I thought of Colonel Beverley, but his age and
dignity were too great to bring him into this squabble of youth. Then a
notion struck me.
"If you will send your friend to my man, John Faulkner, he will make
all arrangements. He is to be found any day in my shop."
With this defiance, I walked nonchalantly out of the dumbfoundered
group, found my horse, and rode homewards.
My coolness did not last many minutes, and long ere I had reached James
Town I was a prey to dark forebodings. Here was I, a peaceful trader,
who desired nothing more than to live in amity with all men, involved
in a bloody strife. I had sought it, and yet it had been none of my
seeking. I had graver thoughts to occupy my mind than the punctilios of
idle youth, and yet I did not see how the thing could have been
shunned. It was my hard fate to come athwart an obstacle which could
not be circumvented, but must be broken. No friend could help me in the
business, not Ringan, nor the Governor, nor Colonel Beverley. It was my
own affair, which I must go through with alone. I felt as solitary as a
pelican.
Remember, I was not fighting for any whimsy about honour, nor even for
the love of Elspeth. I had openly provoked Grey because the hostility
of the young gentry had become an intolerable nuisance in my daily
life. So, with such pedestrian reasons in my mind, I could have none of
the heady enthusiasm of passion. I wanted him and his kind cleared out
of my way, like a noisome insect, but I had no flaming hatred of him to
give me heart.
The consequence was that I became a prey to dismal fear. That bravery
which knows no ebb was never mine. Indeed, I am by nature timorous, for
my fancy is quick, and I see with horrid clearness the incidents of a
peril. Only a shamefaced conscience holds me true, so that, though I
have often done temerarious deeds, it has always been because I feared
shame more than the risk, and my knees have ever been knocking together
and my lips dry with fright. I tried to think soberly over the future,
but could get no conclusion save that I would not do murder. My
conscience was pretty bad about the whole business. I was engaged in
the kind of silly conflict which I had been bred to abhor; I had none
of the common gentleman's notions about honour; and I knew that if by
any miracle I slew Grey I should be guilty in my own eyes of murder. I
would not risk the guilt. If God had determined that I should perish
before my time, then perish I must.
This despair brought me a miserable kind of comfort. When I reached
home I went straight to Faulkner.
"I have quarrelled to-day with a gentleman, John, and have promised him
satisfaction. You must act for me in the affair. Some one will come to
see you this evening, and the meeting had better be at dawn to-morrow."
He opened his eyes very wide. "Who is it, then?" he asked.
"Mr. Charles Grey of Grey's Hundred," I replied.
This made him whistle low, "He's a fine swordsman," he said. "I never
heard there was any better in the dominion. You'll be to fight with
swords?"
I thought hard for a minute. I was the challenged, and so had the
choice of weapons. "No," said I, "you are to appoint pistols, for it is
my right."
At this Faulkner slowly grinned. "It's a new weapon for these affairs.
What if they'll not accept? But it's no business of mine, and I'll
remember your wishes." And the strange fellow turned again to his
accounts.
I spent the evening looking over my papers and making various
appointments in case I did not survive the morrow. Happily the work I
had undertaken for Lawrence was all but finished, and of my ordinary
business Faulkner knew as much as myself. I wrote a letter to Uncle
Andrew, telling him frankly the situation, that he might know how
little choice I had. It was a cold-blooded job making these
dispositions, and I hope never to have the like to do again. Presently
I heard voices outside, and Faulkner came to the door with Mr. George
Mason, the younger, of Thornby, who passed for the chief buck in
Virginia. He gave me a cold bow.
"I have settled everything with this gentleman, but I would beg of you,
sir, to reconsider your choice of arms. My friend will doubtless be
ready enough to humour you, but you have picked a barbarous weapon for
Christian use."
"It's my only means of defence," I said.
"Then you stick to your decision?"
"Assuredly," said I, and, with a shrug of the shoulders, he departed.
I did not attempt to sleep. Faulkner told me that we were to meet the
next morning half an hour after sunrise at a place in the forest a mile
distant. Each man was to fire one shot, but two pistols were allowed in
case of a misfire. All that night by the light of a lamp I got my
weapons ready. I summoned to my recollection all the knowledge I had
acquired, and made sure that nothing should be lacking so far as human
skill would go. I had another pistol besides the one I called
"Elspeth," also made in Glasgow, but a thought longer in the barrel.
For this occasion I neglected cartouches, and loaded in the old way. I
tested my bullets time and again, and weighed out the powder as if it
had been gold dust. It was short range, so I made my charges small. I
tried my old device of wrapping each bullet in soft wool smeared with
beeswax. All this passed the midnight hours, and then I lay down for a
little rest, but not for sleep.
I was glad when Faulkner summoned me half an hour before sunrise. I
remember that I bathed head and shoulders in cold water, and very
carefully dressed myself in my best clothes. My pistols lay in the box
which Faulkner carried. I drank a glass of wine, and as we left I took
a long look at the place I had created, and the river now lit with the
first shafts of morning. I wondered incuriously if I should ever see it
again.
My tremors had all gone by now, and I was in a mood of cold,
thoughtless despair. The earth had never looked so bright as we rode
through the green aisles all filled with the happy song of birds. Often
on such a morning I had started on a journey, with my heart grateful
for the goodness of the world. Could I but keep the road, I should come
in time to the swampy bank of the York; and then would follow the
chestnut forest: and the wide marshes towards the Rappahannock; and
everywhere I should meet friendly human faces, and then at night I
should eat a hunter's meal below the stars. But that was all past, and
I was moving towards death in a foolish strife in which I had no heart,
and where I could find no honour, I think I laughed aloud at my
exceeding folly.
We turned from the path into an alley which led to an open space on the
edge of a derelict clearing. There, to my surprise, I found a
considerable company assembled. Grey was there with his second, and a
dozen or more of his companions stood back in the shadow of the trees.
The young blood of Virginia had come out to see the trader punished.
During the few minutes while the seconds were busy pacing the course
and arranging for the signal, I had no cognizance of the world around
me. I stood with abstracted eyes watching a grey squirrel in one of the
branches, and trying to recall a line I had forgotten in a song. There
seemed to be two Andrew Garvalds that morning, one filled with an
immense careless peace, and the other a weak creature who had lived so
long ago as to be forgotten. I started when Faulkner came to place me,
and followed him without a word. But as I stood up and saw Grey twenty
paces off, turning up his wristbands and tossing his coat to a friend,
I realized the business I had come on. A great flood of light was
rolling down the forest aisles, but it was so clear and pure that it
did not dazzle. I remember thinking in that moment how intolerable had
become the singing of birds.
I deadened my heart to memories, took my courage in both hands, and
forced myself to the ordeal. For it is an ordeal to face powder if you
have not a dreg of passion in you, and are resolved to make no return.
I am left-handed, and so, in fronting my opponent, I exposed my heart.
If Grey were the marksman I thought him, now was his chance for
revenge.
My wits were calm now, and my senses very clear. I heard a man say
slowly that he would count three and then drop his kerchief, and at the
dropping we should fire. Our eyes were on him as he lifted his hand and
slowly began,--"One--two--"
Then I looked away, for the signal mattered nothing to me. I suddenly
caught Grey's eyes, and something whistled past my ear, cutting the
lobe and shearing off a lock of hair. I did not heed it. What filled my
mind was the sight of my enemy, very white and drawn in the face,
holding a smoking pistol and staring at me.
I emptied my pistol among the tree-tops.
No one moved. Grey continued to stare, leaning a little forward, with
his lips working.
Then I took from Faulkner my second pistol. My voice came out of my
throat, funnily cracked as if from long disuse.
"Mr. Grey," I cried, "I would not have you think that I cannot shoot."
Forty yards from me on the edge of the covert a turkey stood, with its
foolish, inquisitive head. The sound of the shots had brought the bird
out to see what was going on. It stood motionless, blinking its eyes,
the very mark I desired.
I pointed to it with my right hand, flung forward my pistol, and fired.
It rolled over as dead as stone, and Faulkner walked to pick it up. He
put back my pistols in the box, and we turned to seek the horses....
Then Grey came up to me. His mouth was hard-set, but the lines were not
of pride. I saw that he too had been desperately afraid, and I rejoiced
that others beside me had been at breaking-point.
"Our quarrel is at an end, sir?" he said, and his voice was hesitating.
"Why, yes," I said. "It was never my seeking, though I gave the
offence."
"I have behaved like a cub, sir," and he spoke loud, so that all could
hear. "You have taught me a lesson in gentility. Will you give me your
hand?"
I could find no words, and dumbly held out my right hand.
"Nay, sir," he said, "the other, the one that held the trigger. I count
it a privilege to hold the hand of a brave man."
I had been tried too hard, and was all but proving my bravery by
weeping like a bairn.