"Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exiled;
Is there no pity, no relenting Ruth?"
BURNS.
"But I remember now
I'm in this earthly world; where to do harm
Is often laudable."
MACBETH, _Act_ 4, _Sc._ 2.
The suddenness and hostile nature of Smithers' challenge so took John
Ferguson by surprise that for some few minutes he could not utter a
sound; and, when he had sufficiently recovered himself to speak, his
adversary was out of hearing, on his mission to prepare the instruments
of death. Left to a calm consideration of his position all its
unpleasantnesses in a moment flashed across his mind. Here he was
involved in a broil the result of which might prove fatal if persevered
in, and with the brother of his kind entertainer. The successful suitor
of the girl he adored, he was called upon to meet in deadly strife. John
felt he could not leave the place to compromise his honour, and insult
his host; at the same time he looked upon a hostile meeting with Bob
Smithers with great repugnance. Much as he had been contemned by Bob,
and many as were the indignities offered to him, John bore him no
animosity; and he could not reconcile to his conscience the idea of
steeping his hands in the blood of a fellow mortal; even in the act of
self-defence, when that defence became culpable by his voluntary
exposure. Yet he feared not death; no, he could stare the grim tyrant in
the face, and unflinchingly meet his shafts. He even felt he could court
his embrace now that he was to lose the only being he deemed life worth
living for.
"Oh! Eleanor! Eleanor!" he exclaimed. "Oh! that I had not known thee!
cruel fate, that I should be drawn into the vortex of thy charms only to
be suffered to estimate thy worth, and then have my hopes crushed on the
rocks of despair. With thee life would be an Elysium; without thee 'tis
a perpetual blank; a dismal future looms in the distance like the shades
of stygian darkness. Oh, cruel fates! would that thou had'st bereft me
of life while yet I breathed in the delicious dream. But yet a door of
hope is left me to escape this bondage. I will meet the fire of your
favourite, and let him, if he so desires it, release my wearied spirit."
Thus John soliloquized as he walked back to the ball-room in a state of
mind bordering on insanity, and reduced to the lowest depths of
love-sick despair. But a "still, small voice" faintly prompted reason,
as his agitated feelings somewhat subsided, and he ceased to
apostrophize his idol, as he approached the building.
He entered the room, and casually casting his eyes round the company
rested them on his brother; whom, upon his obtaining an opportunity, he
called out unobserved by the mass of the guests, and in a few words
explained to him the incident we have just described.
"But, surely, John, you do not intend to accept the challenge?" said
William.
"I have already done so," replied his brother.
"Why, you must be demented! my dear John," exclaimed the other. "Because
a coarse, blustering fellow like that chooses to insult you, and then
call upon you to present your body as a mark for him to shoot at, surely
you are not going to forget all respect for yourself, and commit an open
violation of the laws both of God and man."
"With regard to dyeing my hands in his blood you need have no fear,
William," said John.
"Then why sacrifice your own life?" asked his brother.
"I could with very few regrets submit now to that dissolution which
sooner or later must take place; but I am convinced Bob Smithers is too
much a coward to attempt my life. The laws of his country will stare him
in the face, and will prevent him pulling the trigger of a weapon with
its muzzle directed to my body. His object is simply to frighten me away
from the station, or induce me to act a coldness towards Eleanor;
neither of which desires I intend to gratify, so will stand his fire."
"But, dear John," exclaimed his brother, "only consider, if he should be
malicious enough to attempt your life, or even to wound you, what a
dreadful misfortune it would be; and what would be the anguish of our
dear parents. Believe me, John, it is wiser to avoid the possibility of
any such catastrophe; no dishonour can be attached to you for a refusal
to comply with a barbarous custom. Pray allow yourself to be dissuaded
from this meeting."
"No, Will, I have no fear of the consequences. Bob Smithers will never
have the courage to fire at me; and I will shame him by showing my
contempt for his threats."
"Well, I am grieved at your obduracy, John, for my heart has misgivings
on the result."
"Don't be agitated, William, but be convinced there is nothing to
apprehend; and now come I have been absent some time, and he appointed
ten minutes from the time of the challenge for the meeting."
William, perceiving it was useless to attempt dissuading his brother
from his purpose, accompanied him in silence to the spot where Bob
Smithers and two friends already waited. Upon the approach of the
Fergusons one of the opposite party stepped forward to John, and offered
to enter into the arrangement of preliminaries with his brother, whom he
presumed would act as his second.
Upon John stating his brother was on the ground in that capacity William
allowed himself to be led away by his co-adjutor, and followed him
mechanically through his various manoeuvres; acquiescing in the
arrangements, the nature of which he hardly contemplated. His mind was
intent upon the iniquity of the proceedings, and he was cogitating on a
scheme whereby he could obviate the necessity of having his brother's
life placed in jeopardy. With this thought uppermost in his imagination
he addressed himself to his companion:
"It occurs to me, Mr. Brown (for it was he), that this meeting is
perfectly unnecessary. My brother has consented to it without having
offered any provocation to Mr. Smithers. I think the challenge was given
in a moment when that gentleman was heated by his controversy, while I
have no doubt he would far prefer letting the matter drop, if no stigma
would be attached to him on account of retraction. If so I can answer
for both my brother and myself that the affair will not travel beyond
our two selves."
"I fear, my dear sir," replied Brown, "it is useless making any such
proposition to my principal, for he considers himself aggrieved by the
pertinacity of your brother in his aspiring to the hand of Miss
Rainsfield after he has repeatedly informed him that that young lady was
affianced to himself. He is so considerably offended and chagrined at
your brother's contumacious conduct, and his decided refusal to accede
to any of the terms my principal has proposed, that he will not be
disposed now to accept any other mode of satisfaction than this. If your
brother thought of any amicable settlement he should have done so
before; now there is only this course open."
"Pray don't imagine that I am making any overture with the concurrence
of my brother," said William. "He, I am sorry to say, is as determined
upon this course as your principal can be; but it is that very
obstinacy I lament, for I look upon the whole of this affair not only
as extremely heathenish and barbarous, but incompatible with the
character of gentlemen."
"Your language," replied Brown, "is calculated to cast opprobrium on all
those gentlemen engaged in this little matter, and requires some
explanation and apology; for which, I will be glad to have a few words
with you after the termination of this meeting."
"Now then," shouted the unoccupied colleague of Mr. Brown, "it surely
does not require all that time and talk for you two to pace out the
ground. I could have settled a dozen pairs in the time you are taking
there in arranging the preliminaries of one."
"All right, Graham," said Brown, "we have settled it now;" and turning
to William he continued: "We will draw for positions and you can place
your man, while I do mine. Dr. Graham attends professionally in the
event of either party falling; now then, sir, draw if you please. Oh!
blank; your man takes the right:" saying which he hastened to put
Smithers in position, while he left William standing seemingly rooted to
the ground.
John, seeing his brother's indecision, came up to him, and led him away,
saying, "I suppose as Smithers has taken up that position, I am to take
this. They are particularly obliging; his second has arranged me so that
I shall have the moon directly in my face. Very kind of him, though he
does it with a mistaken object. It will enable his principal to see to
miss me; for that is what he will most desire."
"Pray, John, do not let yourself be deceived," exclaimed his brother;
"they mean death I am convinced, and it is not too late to come to an
amicable settlement."
"Nonsense, William, exhibit some degree of fortitude," said John. "I
tell you again Smithers is too much a poltroon to meditate my death;
though I believe if he could effect it without making himself amenable
to the laws he is not wanting in the disposition."
"Then, even if he does not," said William, "think how the matter will be
talked about. The reports of the pistols are sure to be heard, and the
occurrence will be known almost instantly; think also how it will wound
Eleanor's feelings."
"Tell her, William! that I was irrevocably drawn into it by Smithers
contrary to my own wishes, and that I met his fire without returning
it."
"That is poor satisfaction for either you or her," said William "(her
especially), if you come off scatheless as you anticipate, and as I hope
and trust you may, having her name bandied about all over the country on
the evil tongue of scandal."
"There, Will! there's a good fellow! leave me now," said John, "you see
they are impatient; his second is waiting for you to bring me my weapon.
I had almost forgotten that, and they did not seem disposed to refresh
my memory."
William slowly walked across the ground, and took a pistol from the
hands of Mr. Brown; and placing it within those of his brother retired
to his position to await the issue of the firing.
Upon the enquiry being asked if both were ready, and an affirmative
being returned, the signal was given, and a report of a double discharge
reverberated in the stillness of the bush. William instantly rushed to
his brother, and found him standing with his right arm still extended in
the air, in the position in which he had fired, while his left hand
covered his eyes and features which were suffused in the purple dye.
"Merciful heaven!" cried William, "my dear brother, where are you hit?"
His question to John was answered in a burst of boisterous merriment
from the opponents, and he hastily turned upon them to enquire the
cause of their unseemly hilarity; while Smithers advanced towards his
late antagonist, and replied: "See to him, he must be severely hit, for
he bleeds apparently profusely."
"There is a trick in this, William," said his brother. "'Tis true I am
hit, but not with lead; I am blinded with what appears to me to be red
currant jam."
Another roar of laughter from Smithers and his friends succeeded this
confession, and the perpetrators of the practical joke indulged their
risibilities to the full; evidently congratulating themselves upon the
success of their plans. Their self-complacency, however (at least of one
of them), was brought to an abrupt termination; for as the truth of the
plot flashed across the mind of William, as the instigator of the
proceedings approached to witness the effects of his scurrile trick, the
high-spirited youth sprang towards him, and avenged his brother's
ignominy by felling the coward to the ground.
Graham and Brown instantly rushed to the spot, and interposed; the
former seizing William, while the latter confronted him, and stated that
if there was any cause of quarrel, it could be settled in a manner
befitting gentlemen; "and unless," said he, "I am mistaken in Mr.
Smithers he will instantly require satisfaction for your outrageous
assault."
"Unhand me, sir," said William, as he shook himself from the iron grasp
of the pugnacious doctor, and turning to Brown he exclaimed: "You speak,
forsooth, of requiring the satisfaction of a gentleman; you and your
compeers, who debase yourselves by not only countenancing an insult from
your friend and patron to my brother, but by making yourselves parties
to a trick which no gentleman would be guilty of. As for your prototype
he has not only proved himself a blackguard by having recourse to the
subterfuge of a plea of wounded honour to perform a despicable action;
but a coward in taking a mean advantage of a gentleman under the
hospitable roof of his brother. See, the viper actually slinks away! The
derogation he intended for another reflects opprobrium on his own
infamous character; and the consciousness of his venality deprives him
even of the power of defence." Excited as William was, and inflammatory
as was his language, they failed to stir the blood of Smithers, whose
baseness was exemplified in his cowardice; for he actually left the spot
(as William's remarks would infer) in the midst of the young man's
vituperations.
John Ferguson took his brother's arm, and led him also away from the
scene, saying as he did so: "Calm yourself, William, and never mind me,
I am not hurt, though still almost blind by that stuff in my eyes. The
disgrace of this proceeding will reflect more to his dishonour than to
mine. The report of our pistols has given alarm for I see people coming
this way, so I will get my horse saddled and take my departure."
"Do not depart yet, John," said his brother. Remain till morning at any
rate, and take leave of Mr. and Mrs. Smithers; they will think very
strangely of your sudden departure.
"They are sure to hear of the affair," replied John, "and my departure
will save the unpleasantness of a meeting. I will leave it to you to
make what explanation you like to them; as also to account to Eleanor
for it in what way you think best. She will no doubt have a version of
the matter from Bob Smithers; but I have a better opinion of her than to
imagine she will credit the exaggerated pseudology of malicious
gossips."
For John to wash himself, change his attire, segregate Joey from the
dependent's festivities, get his horse in and saddle him, was the work
only of about half an hour; and the whole of it was performed without
notice from any one belonging to the establishment. John Ferguson and
Joey then started, and as the retreating sound of their horses feet were
lost in the stillness of the night, William retraced his steps to the
scene of gaiety; not to join again in the mirth, but to take an
opportunity of detailing the particulars of the late proceedings to Tom
Rainsfield; judging that he would be the best channel through whom they
could reach the ears of Eleanor. With that intention he sought out his
friend, and was astonished to find that Bob Smithers had already
communicated the fun, as he called it, to some of his choice companions;
though he had studiously avoided any mention of his rencontre with
himself.
It was at an hour close on the heels of morn that the guests broke up
the ball; and consequently it was far advanced in the forenoon before
the assemblage in the breakfast-parlour was by any means numerous. It is
true some of the bachelors had taken their departure; but those in the
bondage of matrimony, and swains who were to act as convoys to the
ladies, of course had to wait the time and pleasure of the fair ones;
and, we must confess it, many were not loath to be detained by their
tender charges.
Our friends were about the first to leave, as having a longer journey to
perform than most of the guests, and neither of them desiring to prolong
a stay where the occurrences had been so painful to one of their party,
they bade a kind adieu to their entertainers; and took the road at a
sharp trot, which they kept up for some hours, notwithstanding their
fatigues of the previous day and night.
We think we informed the reader, in an early chapter of our history,
that Eleanor was (unlike most native girls) not a good horse-woman; and
that it was therefore an exercise she did not frequently indulge in. It
will not be wondered at then that the long ride to Brompton, and the
constant exercise there, had fatigued her. Her horse showing symptoms of
restlessness at starting it was proposed by William that he should affix
a leading rein to the bit ring of her horse's bridle, and ride by her
side with it in his hand. The idea was commended by the party, and was
adopted. They started, William and Eleanor leading the way, Mrs.
Rainsfield following, and Tom and Kate bringing up the rear, and
continued, as we have said, at a brisk pace for some hours.
They had accomplished about half the distance to Strawberry Hill when
they approached rather an abrupt turn in the bush; which, in its
acuteness, prevented them from seeing, until they came immediately upon
it, a large tree which stood right in the centre of the road; or rather
a path had been beaten on either side of it. The main track led by the
right side of the trunk, and William guided his own horse and that of
his companion to take it; but Eleanor's animal became suddenly
refractory, and made a sudden deviation to pass the tree on the other
side. This movement was so unexpected that neither equestrian was
prepared for it; and the two horses, each taking opposite sides of the
tree, were brought to a check in their rapid course by the leading rein
we have mentioned. At the time William had got it firmly fixed round his
left wrist, and could not (when he saw the accident that would
inevitably occur) disengage it; for so instantaneously did it happen
that he had hardly time for meditation before the shock took place, and
both riders were hurled from their saddles with considerable force.
William, though prostrate, still kept his hold of his own bridle and the
rein of Eleanor's horse; and rose with considerable pain, though (with
the exception of numerous bruises) uninjured, to lead the horses free of
the tree.
With Eleanor, however, the accident had resulted far differently. When
the check was felt by her horse the leading rein made him wheel his head
suddenly against the trunk; and, his fore feet tripping him as he did
so, he fell forward to the ground. Eleanor was thrown from her saddle;
and, but for one of those inauspicious events which so frequently occur
to mar our well-being, would have come off more lightly than her
companion. As it was, in her precipitation, her habit in some way became
entangled in her horse's caparisons; and, instead of being thrown clear
of danger, she was hurled with some force to the ground at the animal's
feet The horse also fell; and with the whole weight of his body across
her legs.
It was the work of a moment for the rest of the party to pull up their
steeds, and for Kate to leap from her saddle to the side of her friend;
and another for Tom and William to extricate her from her dangerous
position.
"Oh, dearest Eleanor," passionately exclaimed Kate, "tell me that you
are not seriously hurt. Oh, that horrid, horrid horse!"
"I fear I am, Kate dear," replied the poor girl, "I am very much
bruised, and my leg now I try to move it gives me great pain: I am
afraid it is broken."
"Oh, gracious goodness! what shall we do?" cried Kate; "lean on me,
Eleanor love, and see if you can rise."
The poor girl did so; but the pain was more than even her wonted heroism
could endure. With a faint cry of agony she sank fainting into the arms
of Tom, who was standing at her side ready to support her in case of
need, and there unfortunately proved to be need; for Eleanor, as she
herself had anticipated, had broken her leg.
The unconscious form of the suffering creature was carried into the
adjoining shade, and gently placed on the turf in a reclining position;
while the ladies speedily had recourse to those gentle restoratives,
with which they are happily at all times so ready, in cases where the
sympathies of their kindly natures are brought into play.
We masculine mortals plume ourselves on our knowledge of the female
character; which we profess to read as the astrologers of old did "the
gems that deck eve's lustrous mantle;" and to divine their secret
wishes, fancies, and inclinations, as the professors of clairvoyance do
their susceptible pupils. But we are inclined to think woman's heart is
the true arcana of life; at least of this fact we are certain, woman's
troubles can only be appreciated by woman; and woman in sorrow can only
be soothed, or woman in pain can only be alleviated by those whose
anodynes are the effects of intuitive impulsions, arising from the
reciprocal communings of kindred spirits. Oh, woman! bless'd woman!
Favoured daughters of Eve! thou never shinest in such perfection as when
thy ministering hand assuages the pain of a sick couch. Happy is the
man, with all his flaunted superiority, who, in the time of
indisposition, when his spirit wavers indecisively between this life and
the other, is blessed with the possession of thy tender solicitude, to
smooth the passage to the mysterious bourne, or nourish the reviving
spirit with thy calm, patient, and may be, vigil-dimm'd orbs, ever
watching for returning convalescence. But we are digressing; our
feelings of gratitude to the sex are carrying us away from the subject
of our narrative, and we must apologize to our fair readers for our
abstractedness.
Through the tender care of her friends Eleanor speedily recovered her
consciousness, though only to be made aware, by contemplation, of the
dreadfulness of her situation. She was suffering the most excruciating
agony, and was more than twenty miles from any assistance. The thought
would have subdued the stout heart of many a man, but with her evoked
not a murmur. She bore her sufferings, both bodily and mental, with her
characteristic heroism,--a heroism that admitted of no complaint,--a
perfect subjugation of the feelings, passively enduring pain with an
annihilation of all querulousness,--one that in a man would have
distinguished the bold spirit; but in a woman denoted the sublimity of
that nature, which, in its gentle texture, shines out in bold relief and
claims the laurels for an endurance which extinguishes, in its
sublimated lustre, the baser material of the stern "lords of the
creation."
A hasty council was now formed in debate as to the best means that could
be adopted to procure assistance for their wounded friend. It was
proposed first that she should attempt to get back to Brompton; then
that one of the gentleman should ride back at once, and procure some
conveyance; then that the ladies should return to Brompton, and obtain
the requisite assistance, while the gentlemen constructed a litter and
carried the invalid as far on the road as they could, or until they were
met by assistance. To all of these propositions Eleanor, however, gave
her emphatic veto, and declared that she would not consent to return;
but affirmed her willingness and ability to proceed to Strawberry Hill.
This desire again was energetically combatted by her friends, who argued
that such a course would endanger, not only her limb, but possibly her
life; and that it would be far better for her to waive her scruples,
and consent to return to the Smithers'. But to all entreaties on that
head she turned a deaf ear. "I will mount my horse," she said, "with
your assistance, and by going quietly I will be perfectly able to reach
home. So do not, my dear friends, make yourselves uneasy on my account."
At this juncture when all was indecision, Kate started up and exclaimed:
"Now I'll tell you what to do. Dear Eleanor says she will not return to
Brompton, and that she would prefer going home; a thought has just come
into my head and I will act upon it. There was a doctor at the party
yesterday, and I heard Mr. Robert Smithers ask him to stop until this
afternoon; so I will ride back, and catch him before he leaves, and
bring him on here; but, in the meantime, you must assist Eleanor into
her saddle, and while William leads the horse, Mr. Rainsfield ought to
walk at her side and protect her from falling; and, if Mrs. Rainsfield
would only ride on before and send out the spring cart to meet you, the
arrangements would be complete."
The boldness of the scheme so astonished her friends that Kate was on
her legs and ready to mount before they could think of objecting to it.
Eleanor was the first and most earnest in dissuading her from so rash a
step; but all opposition was cut short by the spirited girl herself, who
said she would not be dissuaded; and addressing her brother said: "Come,
Will, assist me into the saddle and don't detain me; for I will go, and
there is no use of either of you accompanying me; your assistance will
be required by dear Eleanor. Do as I propose, and you will find I will
be at Strawberry Hill with the doctor very shortly after you."