THE DUEL, AND AFTER
It was a glorious morning, the air crisp, fresh and clear, when I rose
early, and found Spernow waiting for me in the courtyard of the hotel.
He introduced his friend, Captain Zoiloff, who would act as my other
second in the duel.
“I got Zoiloff to come because he’s well up in these matters,” said
Spernow, “and I’m not. He’ll keep us right.”
I did not take the affair of the duel seriously; my bout with Ristich
at the General’s house had shown me my greater skill, and I had no
intention of even wounding him seriously, and no fear whatever that he
would be able to touch me. I said as much to my companions as we walked
together to the ground.
“Ristich is very mad against you for some reason or other,” said
Spernow. “And he’s a hare-brained chap, so I should look out.”
“He is not much of a swordsman,” put in Zoiloff, “but he has one or two
clever strokes that have served him well enough in other affairs of
this kind;” and he went on to describe them. But he found me a somewhat
inattentive listener, and after a short time the talk turned to other
matters.
We were first on the ground, and Captain Zoiloff promptly set to work
to choose the most suitable spot, and the positions which we should
respectively take up. He displayed a manifest relish for the task, and
was evidently an old campaigner in this sort of thing.
He had scarcely concluded his work when the other party arrived,
bringing with them a doctor. They saluted us formally, and without any
delay the seconds consulted together, decided upon the ground, and
selected the weapons.
While they were thus engaged Ristich and I stood apart, and I saw that
he was very pale and moody-looking, glancing every now and again at me
with patent ill-feeling and animosity.
“Ristich has got his marching orders,” said Spernow to me, when he and
Zoiloff came to explain what they had arranged.
“How do you mean?”
“He is being sent back to Russia, and leaves to-day.”
“I heard him declare he wanted to go,” said I.
“Yes, but not in semi-disgrace. He puts it down to you, and that’s what
makes him so bitter. They tell me he raged like a fiend when he heard
it last night, and he means mischief.”
I glanced across at him. He had thrown off his uniform, and I saw, too,
that his sword-arm was bandaged. Till that moment I had forgotten all
about the wound I had inflicted.
“Stay a moment,” I cried to my seconds. “He is wounded. I can’t fight a
disabled man,” and I told them what had occurred.
“That’s his lookout,” said Zoiloff, in a very business-like tone. “He
is the challenger.”
“I won’t fight a cripple,” I said resolutely; and at that they called
the other seconds aside, and a long conference ensued, in the course
of which Ristich was more than once consulted. I saw him explaining
matters to his seconds, and flourishing one of the rapiers to show that
he could use it quite well.
“He insists that the fight must go on,” said Zoiloff on his return to
me, “and I really don’t see that you can object.”
“But it isn’t fair,” I protested. “Under ordinary circumstances, and
with the full use of his arm, the man isn’t my equal with the sword,
and, disabled in that way, the thing’s absurd.”
“His point is that he has to leave Sofia, and that, as he is determined
to fight you, he will have no other chance. I shouldn’t insist, Count
Benderoff, if I were in your place. It will only cause talk. The doctor
has examined the wound and says Ristich is fit to fight, and he has
shown us, as you may have seen, that he has complete command of his
sword.”
“It makes me appear ridiculous to fight a wounded man,” I urged. “Try
further protest, and say I will meet him anywhere at any time when he
is well again. I will travel to Russia if necessary.”
“I am afraid that we shall only get some sneering reply that you don’t
want to fight, or something of that sort.”
“I would rather be sneered at for not fighting a wounded man than fight
one,” said I. “I will take care of my reputation.” And they went across
to repeat the protest and deliver the message.
It was as fruitless as the former one, and when Zoiloff returned he was
very angry.
“I will not repeat his message,” he said; “but it was most insulting.
You must fight, Count. If we have any more conferences we shall only
have more duels. I think you have acted most honourably; but, believe
me, you can only press this further at great risk to your name.”
He spoke so earnestly, and Spernow joined with him, that I allowed
myself to be persuaded, and threw off my coat and waistcoat and made
ready.
We took up our positions under the shadow of some trees, and when my
opponent was close to me the look of hate in his eyes, as they rested
on mine, confirmed what Spernow had told me of his intention and desire
to do his worst.
But from the moment when our blades crossed and the word was given us
to engage, I knew that the issue must rest with me. Ristich attacked
me immediately with great violence and impetuosity, in the hope of
finishing the matter before his weakened strength should give out. I
had no difficulty in defending myself, however, and, had I been in the
same vengeful mood as he was, I could have run him through.
My object was not that. I wished merely to wound him slightly, or
disarm him; and I tried two or three times to do the latter, though
without success. I fought as coolly and warily as if we were in the
school trying a bout with the foils, and this coolness aggravated my
opponent intensely, so that he lost all self-control.
Watching patiently for my opportunity, I found it when he had made
one of his reckless, angry thrusts, and with a quick counter I drove
the point of my sword into his shoulder. Then I drew back instantly
and threw up my weapon off the guard. Whether he saw this or not, or
whether his rage blinded him to his wound and to all else besides, I
know not, but instantly he thrust out his weapon with a blow aimed
straight at my heart.
I saved myself only by springing back, while a shout of indignation
came from Zoiloff.
“A foul stroke; I call you to witness, gentlemen, a foul and dastardly
stroke,” he cried, excitedly, as he rushed in and struck up my
opponent’s sword. “Count Benderoff has behaved splendidly, and if your
sword had gone home, Lieutenant Ristich, it would have been murder. A
most foul stroke.”
In a moment he was the centre of a group, all as excited as himself.
Ristich protested that he had not seen me draw back from the fight,
that he had not felt that he was wounded, and that he was eager to
continue the fight. But Zoiloff would not hear of it.
“I withdraw my man, certainly,” I heard him say, and he brought matters
to a dramatic conclusion. “I declare the stroke a foul one, foully
dealt, and if anyone questions that, I am ready to make good my words
now and here;” and he singled out Captain Dimitrieff and addressed him
pointedly: “What say you, Captain?”
He looked very dangerous as he paused for an answer, and the Captain
clearly had no wish for a quarrel with him.
“Of course, the fight is over,” he answered, evasively.
“Exactly, and we’ll leave it at that,” said Zoiloff, drily, as he
turned on his heel and came to me with Spernow. “I never saw a more
dastardly thing. I wouldn’t have believed even a Russian would have
done such a thing.” A speech that set me wondering.
“They won’t cross Zoiloff,” whispered Spernow to me as I was dressing,
rapidly. “He’s a demon at the business. I’m glad I brought him.”
“What did he mean about ‘even a Russian?’” I asked.
“He hates ’em as much as I do. I’ll tell you another time,” replied
Spernow.
“I congratulate you, Count Benderoff, on a lucky escape. That man
meant to murder you; and Dimitrieff ought to be ashamed of himself
for not speaking out plainly. But they hang together in a way that’s
disgusting, these----” He checked himself suddenly, with a quick glance
at me, as though he had said more than enough before a stranger.
“I hope he really did not know I was not on guard,” I answered.
“I’m afraid it’s a hope not much stouter than a spider’s web;” and he
laughed bitterly. “The man meant murder, and was mad when he saw you
could hold him so easily. You use the sword like a master, Count--I
should like to try the foils with you.”
“Nothing would please me better than a few hints from you,” said I,
readily. “I am a good deal out of practice.”
“Then I shouldn’t care to play with you in earnest when you are in
practice,” was his deftly flattering reply. “If we are to quarrel, I’d
better pray for it to be soon;” and his taciturn face broke into a
smile.
“It’s something to earn Zoiloff’s praise in these things, Count,” said
Spernow, laughing. “He’s generally as chary of it as a coy woman of her
kisses.”
“You are both breakfasting with me, I hope,” I said, as we moved off
the ground. “Then we can go round to the house I am getting ready, and,
if you like, I can have my first lesson in the shooting gallery which I
am having fitted up there.”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure; but unfortunately, as I told
Spernow, I have an engagement which I cannot break,” said Zoiloff. “But
I can be with you in about a couple of hours from now, and then I
shall be at your service. I should like nothing better than to see your
gallery.” And we arranged it so.
While we were at breakfast I asked Spernow to tell me, as he had
promised, how it was that so much hatred of the Russians existed among
the very men who were on their side. Such a fact, if it were one, might
have considerable influence upon me.
“I am the worst hand in the world at explaining things,” he answered.
“But it is quite true. We don’t trust them, but we trust each other
less, Count; that’s about the size of it, I think. We must have some
kind of steady leadership, and what is there here? Look at the men
who are at the head of things, and what are they except a crowd of
nobodies, risen from nowhere, and setting their course solely by the
compass of self-interest. The needle points always in that direction,
and all the rest goes running round it.”
“But why trust Russia?”
“Why not? So far as we can see, the one steady influence in this
country is directed by her. We hate Russia, but we are afraid of her;
and where else can we look for any hope of help?”
“The Prince,” I suggested.
“He is as powerless as his poorest subject, and he has round him a
crew that are after nothing but their own personal ends. They yell
about patriotism and independence and all the rest of it, but would
sell themselves to-morrow to the highest bidder. They only don’t sell
themselves, because nobody thinks them worth buying. The only real
power is wielded by Russia, and I suppose we think it’s better to
make friends in advance with what must be the controlling hand in
the country. It’s not a very high game, is it--but where’s a better?
Men like Zoiloff would only too gladly jump at a chance of something
better.”
“And the Princess Christina?”
“Ah!” And his face lighted with enthusiasm. “We do all but worship her,
not only for herself, but because we have come to believe she will in
some way do what we want to see done--draw out the best that lies in
Bulgarian life. She is truth itself, and right, justice, and honour are
the cardinal articles of her faith.”
I looked at him in surprise and began to see there was more in him than
I had at first thought.
“You think more seriously of these matters than I had believed,” I said.
“I?” and he laughed. “Ah, it does not do for us Bulgarians to let the
Russians believe we take either our affairs or ourselves too earnestly.
But some of us are sound enough in heart at least. Enough of politics,
however; why should I bore you with them?” And he turned away to
lighter topics, rattling off a dozen stories of the latest gossip and
tittle-tattle about the society of the city.
I did not check him, for it struck me that he was anxious rather that I
should retain my first impressions of him than begin to look on him as
taking a serious interest in the affairs of the country.
After breakfast we went round to my house and I showed him the
alterations I had made. He took the keenest interest in everything,
declaring that my wealth would make me at once an important figure in
Sofia, and that in a few weeks I should have half the city flocking to
my doors.
When Zoiloff came we went to the shooting gallery, and both the men
were vastly interested in everything I had done. I had had the place
fitted as a gymnasium, with every kind of appliance that money could
provide; many of them sent specially from England.
“I did not know that you Roumanians cared for these things at all,”
said Zoiloff. “I have not done you justice.”
“I am half an Englishman,” I answered, purposely--for I had begun to
alter radically the original part for which I had cast myself. If I was
to stay in Sofia, I felt that I must wrap round me the protection which
that magic formula, British subject, alone could give. The announcement
surprised them both.
“Ah, that accounts for it,” exclaimed Zoiloff. “You English are a
wonderful people. But why do you come to Sofia? Pardon me, I have no
right to put such a question,” he added hastily.
“I am also half a Roumanian; and the freedom of Bulgaria is essential
for the independence of that country.”
I turned away as I spoke, and pretended not to notice the swift, shrewd
look which both men turned upon me.
“I shall hope to know much more of you, Count Benderoff,” said Zoiloff,
with so much earnestness that I thought my words had touched the chord
in him I intended.
“I think it is my turn to be surprised in you,” said Spernow. “And I
hope that we three may come to understand each other well.”
Were these invitations from them both to speak more openly? I thought
so, but felt that for the present I had said enough.
“Shall we try the foils?” I asked.
“With pleasure,” agreed Zoiloff; and while he was making ready he
glanced round the spacious gallery and added: “What a magnificent hall
you have here; there is room to drill half a company of soldiers, as
well as train a band of athletes!”
“Yes,” I answered with a laugh. “It would be a fine house for a
revolutionary movement.” And at this they both started, and again shot
shrewd, searching glances at me; but I was busy selecting the foils.
“You English are a wonderful people,” said Zoiloff again, but this time
very drily.
We set to work then with our fencing, and to my surprise, and much to
Zoiloff’s admiration, I proved slightly the better swordsman. He had
not a spark of jealousy or envy in his composition, and when I had
beaten him for the third or fourth bout in succession, he only laughed
and said:
“I am your first recruit, Count; and you are a master I am well content
to work from--and follow.”
“Good,” exclaimed Spernow, “I will be the second--if you will have me,
Count.”
“My dear Spernow, I could wish no better friends or comrades in any
work than you two.” At this answer Zoiloff, taciturn and reserved
though he was by nature, offered me his hand impulsively, and said with
great earnestness, as I took it:
“Now I am sure we understand each other, and shall work together for
the same cause, Count;” and the warmth of his hand-grip told me that in
him I should have a firm friend.
Spernow was not nearly so skilful a swordsman, and knew it; but he was
anxious to learn, and we arranged that we three should make a rule of
meeting daily for such practice; and when we were separating I said:
“As you can see, I take a great interest in these things, and I should
like you to do me the favour of bringing with you such friends of yours
as you think would like to come and would help us by taking an interest
in the work here.”
Zoiloff’s dark eyes lighted meaningly as they held mine.
“You would soon have a large circle of friends, Count.”
“Every friend of Bulgaria would be a friend of mine,” I answered.
“You mean all that that implies?”
“I mean all that that implies; and the wider interpretation you give to
it the better I shall be pleased.”
“It should be a day of good omen for the country when your house is
thrown open for that purpose. A party of really patriotic Bulgarians
is no mere dream-project--though they will be young men, mostly. By
Heavens, but I am glad Spernow induced me to go out with you this
morning.”
When they had gone, I stayed to think over all the chances which this
unexpected turn of matters suggested. It might yet be checkmate indeed
to Russian plans, if we could find the means to form such a party of
young ardent patriots from within the very ranks of those supposed to
be devoted to Russian interests. There were possibilities calculated to
satisfy the wildest ambitions and effect the most drastic changes.
It would be a perilous task enough at the outset, for I could not doubt
that, should the project get wind, as was most probable in that land of
spies and treachery, General Kolfort would spare no efforts and stop at
no measures to crush it under the wheels of his enormous power.
But it was worth the effort. To me it was infinitely more welcome than
any secret counter-mining intrigue, such as I had had in contemplation.
It would be a real sturdy stroke in the cause of freedom, and, if once
successful, no man could tell how far or wide or deep its glorious
effects might not be felt.
It roused me till the blood coursed quickly through my veins and my
pulse beat with feverish throbs, for in it I saw the real interest and
honour of the Princess Christina herself. The men who had been with
me were both pledged to the eyelids to serve her, I knew; and I knew
further that every man they brought to the house to join us would have
the same enthusiasm in her behalf. Who could tell but that by these
means I might yet be the agent to place her on the throne, but without
the hampering restrictions of any Russian marriage?
This thought was whirling in my head as I walked back to my hotel,
there to receive another startling surprise.
Some one was waiting to see me, had been waiting for two hours, on
important business.
“I am Major Grueff, and am the bearer of a letter to Count Benderoff,
of Radova. Have I the pleasure of speaking to him?”
“Yes, what is it?” I asked, concealing my surprise.
“His Highness has given you a captain’s commission in the Sofia
Regiment, Count, of which I am the Major in command, and has requested
me to carry back your answer to this letter.”
I opened it and found it a request that I should wait upon the Prince
on the following day.
There was no doubt as to the meaning of this. It was the Countess
Bokara’s work; and as I penned my reply, that I should gladly accept
his command, I called to mind her declaration that our next meeting
would be at the Prince’s palace.
“I am glad to welcome you to the regiment, Count,” said the major; but
he spoke in a tone I did not like, and I conceived an instinctive but
invincible prejudice against him. “And, as I have been so long waiting,
I will get you to excuse my hurrying away.”
I did not attempt to stay him; for I wished to be alone to think over
this new development.
If I accepted the captaincy, what could it mean except that I committed
myself to the Prince’s side? And this at the very moment when the other
and vastly more congenial plan had begun to take shape in my mind.
I thought I could see again the alluring but cruel face of the Countess
Bokara, and hear the ring of triumph in her voice as she had turned to
me after her cold-blooded deed:
“Now you will have to join us!”