THE COMBAT.
[ILLUSTRATION: (untitled)]
I have said that John Eames was at his office punctually at twelve;
but an incident had happened before his arrival there very important
in the annals which are now being told,--so important that it
is essentially necessary that it should be described with some
minuteness of detail.
Lord De Guest, in the various conversations which he had had with
Eames as to Lily Dale and her present position, had always spoken
of Crosbie with the most vehement abhorrence. "He is a damned
blackguard," said the earl, and the fire had come out of his round
eyes as he spoke. Now the earl was by no means given to cursing and
swearing, in the sense which is ordinarily applied to these words.
When he made use of such a phrase as that quoted above, it was to be
presumed that he in some sort meant what he said; and so he did, and
had intended to signify that Crosbie by his conduct had merited all
such condemnation as was the fitting punishment for blackguardism of
the worst description.
"He ought to have his neck broken," said Johnny.
"I don't know about that," said the earl. "The present times have
become so pretty behaved that corporal punishment seems to have gone
out of fashion. I shouldn't care so much about that, if any other
punishment had taken its place. But it seems to me that a blackguard
such as Crosbie can escape now altogether unscathed."
"He hasn't escaped yet," said Johnny.
"Don't you go and put your finger in the pie and make a fool of
yourself," said the earl. If it had behoved any one to resent in any
violent fashion the evil done by Crosbie, Bernard Dale, the earl's
nephew, should have been the avenger. This the earl felt, but under
these circumstances he was disposed to think that there should be no
such violent vengeance. "Things were different when I was young," he
said to himself. But Eames gathered from the earl's tone that the
earl's words were not strictly in accordance with his thoughts, and
he declared to himself over and over again that Crosbie had not yet
escaped.
He got into the train at Guestwick, taking a first-class ticket,
because the earl's groom in livery was in attendance upon him. Had
he been alone he would have gone in a cheaper carriage. Very weak in
him, was it not? little also, and mean? My friend, can you say that
you would not have done the same at his age? Are you quite sure that
you would not do the same now that you are double his age? Be that as
it may, Johnny Eames did that foolish thing, and gave the groom in
livery half-a-crown into the bargain.
"We shall have you down again soon, Mr. John," said the groom, who
seemed to understand that Mr. Eames was to be made quite at home at
the manor.
He went fast to sleep in the carriage, and did not awake till the
train was stopped at the Barchester Junction.
"Waiting for the up-train from Barchester, sir," said the guard.
"They're always late." Then he went to sleep again, and was aroused
in a few minutes by some one entering the carriage in a great hurry.
The branch train had come in, just as the guardians of the line then
present had made up their minds that the passengers on the main line
should not be kept waiting any longer. The transfer of men, women,
and luggage was therefore made in great haste, and they who were
now taking their new seats had hardly time to look about them. An
old gentleman, very red about the gills, first came into Johnny's
carriage, which up to that moment he had shared with an old lady.
The old gentleman was abusing everybody, because he was hurried, and
would not take himself well into the compartment, but stuck in the
doorway, standing on the step.
"Now, sir, when you're quite at leisure," said a voice behind the old
man, which instantly made Eames start up in his seat.
"I'm not at all at leisure," said the old man; "and I'm not going to
break my legs if I know it."
"Take your time, sir," said the guard.
"So I mean," said the old man, seating himself in the corner nearest
to the open door, opposite to the old lady. Then Eames saw plainly
that it was Crosbie who had first spoken, and that he was getting
into the carriage.
Crosbie at the first glance saw no one but the old gentleman and the
old lady, and he immediately made for the unoccupied corner seat.
He was busy with his umbrella and his dressing-bag, and a little
flustered by the pushing and hurrying. The carriage was actually
in motion before he perceived that John Eames was opposite to him:
Eames had, instinctively, drawn up his legs so as not to touch him.
He felt that he had become very red in the face, and to tell the
truth, the perspiration had broken out upon his brow. It was a
great occasion,--great in its imminent trouble, and great in its
opportunity for action. How was he to carry himself at the first
moment of his recognition by his enemy, and what was he to do
afterwards?
It need hardly be explained that Crosbie had also been spending his
Christmas with a certain earl of his acquaintance, and that he too
was returning to his office. In one respect he had been much more
fortunate than poor Eames, for he had been made happy with the smiles
of his lady love. Alexandrina and the countess had fluttered about
him softly, treating him as a tame chattel, now belonging to the
noble house of De Courcy, and in this way he had been initiated into
the inner domesticities of that illustrious family. The two extra
men-servants, hired to wait upon Lady Dumbello, had vanished. The
champagne had ceased to flow in a perennial stream. Lady Rosina had
come out from her solitude, and had preached at him constantly. Lady
Margaretta had given him some lessons in economy. The Honourable
John, in spite of a late quarrel, had borrowed five pounds from him.
The Honourable George had engaged to come and stay with his sister
during the next May. The earl had used a father-in-law's privilege,
and had called him a fool. Lady Alexandrina had told him more than
once, in rather a tart voice, that this must be done, and that that
must be done; and the countess had given him her orders as though
it was his duty, in the course of nature, to obey every word that
fell from her. Such had been his Christmas delights; and now, as he
returned back from the enjoyment of them, he found himself confronted
in the railway carriage with Johnny Eames!
The eyes of the two met, and Crosbie made a slight inclination of
his head. To this Eames gave no acknowledgment whatever, but looked
straight into the other's face. Crosbie immediately saw that they
were not to know each other, and was well contented that it should be
so. Among all his many troubles, the enmity of John Eames did not go
for much. He showed no appearance of being disconcerted, though our
friend had shown much. He opened his bag, and taking out a book was
soon deeply engaged in it, pursuing his studies as though the man
opposite was quite unknown to him. I will not say that his mind did
not run away from his book, for indeed there were many things of
which he found it impossible not to think; but it did not revert to
John Eames. Indeed, when the carriages reached Paddington, he had in
truth all but forgotten him; and as he stepped out of the carriage,
with his bag in his hand, was quite free from any remotest trouble on
his account.
But it had not been so with Eames himself. Every moment of the
journey had for him been crowded with thought as to what he would do
now that chance had brought his enemy within his reach. He had been
made quite wretched by the intensity of his thinking; and yet, when
the carriages stopped, he had not made up his mind. His face had been
covered with perspiration ever since Crosbie had come across him, and
his limbs had hardly been under his own command. Here had come to him
a great opportunity, and he felt so little confidence in himself that
he almost knew that he would not use it properly. Twice and thrice
he had almost flown at Crosbie's throat in the carriage, but he was
restrained by an idea that the world and the police would be against
him if he did such a thing in the presence of that old lady.
But when Crosbie turned his back upon him, and walked out, it was
absolutely necessary that he should do something. He was not going to
let the man escape, after all that he had said as to the expediency
of thrashing him. Any other disgrace would be preferable to that.
Fearing, therefore, lest his enemy should be too quick for him,
he hurried out after him, and only just gave Crosbie time to turn
round and face the carriages before he was upon him. "You confounded
scoundrel!" he screamed out. "You confounded scoundrel!" and seized
him by the throat, throwing himself upon him, and almost devouring
him by the fury of his eyes.
The crowd upon the platform was not very dense, but there were quite
enough of people to make a very respectable audience for this little
play. Crosbie, in his dismay, retreated a step or two, and his
retreat was much accelerated by the weight of Eames's attack. He
endeavoured to free his throat from his foe's grasp; but in that he
failed entirely. For the minute, however, he did manage to escape any
positive blow, owing his safety in that respect rather to Eames's
awkwardness than to his own efforts. Something about the police he
was just able to utter, and there was, as a matter of course, an
immediate call for a supply of those functionaries. In about three
minutes three policemen, assisted by six porters, had captured our
poor friend Johnny; but this had not been done quick enough for
Crosbie's purposes. The bystanders, taken by surprise, had allowed
the combatants to fall back upon Mr. Smith's book-stall, and there
Eames laid his foe prostrate among the newspapers, falling himself
into the yellow shilling-novel depot by the over fury of his own
energy; but as he fell, he contrived to lodge one blow with his fist
in Crosbie's right eye,--one telling blow; and Crosbie had, to all
intents and purposes, been thrashed.
"Con--founded scoundrel, rascal, blackguard!" shouted Johnny, with
what remnants of voice were left to him, as the police dragged him
off. "If you only knew--what he's--done." But in the meantime the
policemen held him fast.
As a matter of course the first burst of public sympathy went with
Crosbie. He had been assaulted, and the assault had come from Eames.
In the British bosom there is so firm a love of well-constituted
order, that these facts alone were sufficient to bring twenty knights
to the assistance of the three policemen and the six porters; so that
for Eames, even had he desired it, there was no possible chance of
escape. But he did not desire it. One only sorrow consumed him at
present. He had, as he felt, attacked Crosbie, but had attacked
him in vain. He had had his opportunity, and had misused it. He
was perfectly unconscious of that happy blow, and was in absolute
ignorance of the great fact that his enemy's eye was already swollen
and closed, and that in another hour it would be as black as his hat.
"He is a con--founded rascal!" ejaculated Eames, as the policemen and
porters hauled him about. "You don't know what he's done."
"No, we don't," said the senior constable; "but we know what you have
done. I say, Bushers, where's that gentleman? He'd better come along
with us."
Crosbie had been picked up from among the newspapers by another
policeman and two or three other porters, and was attended also by
the guard of the train, who knew him, and knew that he had come up
from Courcy Castle. Three or four hangers-on were standing also
around him, together with a benevolent medical man who was proposing
to him an immediate application of leeches. If he could have done
as he wished, he would have gone his way quietly, allowing Eames to
do the same. A great evil had befallen him, but he could in no way
mitigate that evil by taking the law of the man who had attacked him.
To have the thing as little talked about as possible should be his
endeavour. What though he should have Eames locked up and fined, and
scolded by a police magistrate? That would not in any degree lessen
his calamity. If he could have parried the attack, and got the better
of his foe; if he could have administered the black eye instead of
receiving it, then indeed he could have laughed the matter off at his
club, and his original crime would have been somewhat glozed over by
his success in arms. But such good fortune had not been his. He was
forced, however, on the moment to decide as to what he would do.
"We've got him here in custody, sir," said Bushers, touching his hat.
It had become known from the guard that Crosbie was somewhat of a big
man, a frequent guest at Courcy Castle, and of repute and station in
the higher regions of the Metropolitan world. "The magistrates will
be sitting at Paddington, now, sir--or will be by the time we get
there."
By this time some mighty railway authority had come upon the scene
and made himself cognizant of the facts of the row,--a stern official
who seemed to carry the weight of many engines on his brow; one at
the very sight of whom smokers would drop their cigars, and porters
close their fists against sixpences; a great man with an erect chin,
a quick step, and a well-brushed hat powerful with an elaborately
upturned brim. This was the platform-superintendent, dominant even
over the policemen.
"Step into my room, Mr. Crosbie," he said. "Stubbs, bring that man
in with you." And then, before Crosbie had been able to make up
his mind as to any other line of conduct, he found himself in the
superintendent's room, accompanied by the guard, and by the two
policemen who conducted Johnny Eames between them.
"What's all this?" said the superintendent, still keeping on his hat,
for he was aware how much of the excellence of his personal dignity
was owing to the arrangement of that article; and as he spoke he
frowned upon the culprit with his utmost severity. "Mr. Crosbie, I am
very sorry that you should have been exposed to such brutality on our
platform."
"You don't know what he has done," said Johnny. "He is the most
confounded scoundrel living. He has broken--" But then he stopped
himself. He was going to tell the superintendent that the confounded
scoundrel had broken a beautiful young lady's heart; but he bethought
himself that he would not allude more specially to Lily Dale in that
hearing.
"Do you know who he is, Mr. Crosbie?" said the superintendent.
"Oh, yes," said Crosbie, whose eye was already becoming blue. "He is
a clerk in the Income-tax Office, and his name is Eames. I believe
you had better leave him to me."
But the superintendent at once wrote down the words "Income-tax
Office--Eames," on his tablet. "We can't allow a row like that to
take place on our platform and not notice it. I shall bring it before
the directors. It's a most disgraceful affair, Mr. Eames--most
disgraceful."
But Johnny by this time had perceived that Crosbie's eye was in a
state which proved satisfactorily that his morning's work had not
been thrown away, and his spirits were rising accordingly. He did not
care two straws for the superintendent or even for the policemen, if
only the story could be made to tell well for himself hereafter. It
was his object to have thrashed Crosbie, and now, as he looked at his
enemy's face, he acknowledged that Providence had been good to him.
"That's your opinion," said Johnny.
"Yes, sir, it is," said the superintendent; "and I shall know how to
represent the matter to your superiors, young man."
"You don't know all about it," said Eames; "and I don't suppose you
ever will. I had made up my mind what I'd do the first time I saw
that scoundrel there; and now I've done it. He'd have got much worse
in the railway carriage, only there was a lady there."
"Mr. Crosbie, I really think we had better take him before the
magistrates."
To this, however, Crosbie objected. He assured the superintendent
that he would himself know how to deal with the matter--which,
however, was exactly what he did not know. Would the superintendent
allow one of the railway servants to get a cab for him, and to find
his luggage? He was very anxious to get home without being subjected
to any more of Mr. Eames's insolence.
"You haven't done with Mr. Eames's insolence yet, I can tell you. All
London shall hear of it, and shall know why. If you have any shame in
you, you shall be ashamed to show your face."
Unfortunate man! Who can say that punishment--adequate
punishment--had not overtaken him? For the present, he had to sneak
home with a black eye, with the knowledge inside him that he had been
whipped by a clerk in the Income-tax Office; and for the future--he
was bound over to marry Lady Alexandrina De Courcy!
He got himself smuggled off in a cab, without being forced to go
again upon the platform--his luggage being brought to him by two
assiduous porters. But in all this there was very little balm for his
hurt pride. As he ordered the cabman to drive to Mount Street, he
felt that he had ruined himself by that step in life which he had
taken at Courcy Castle. Whichever way he looked he had no comfort.
"D---- the fellow!" he said, almost out loud in the cab; but though
he did with his outward voice allude to Eames, the curse in his inner
thoughts was uttered against himself.
Johnny was allowed to make his way down to the platform, and there
find his own carpet-bag. One young porter, however, came up and
fraternized with him.
"You guve it him tidy just at that last moment, sir. But, laws, sir,
you should have let out at him at fust. What's the use of clawing a
man's neck-collar?"
It was then a quarter past eleven, but, nevertheless, Eames appeared
at his office precisely at twelve.