0137m
“Vastly, immeasurably!”
“What's hup, sir?” he exclaimed, in some concern now.
“I have made a little bet with Mr. Lumme,” I answered in a serious voice, “a small wager that I shall be the first to catch the fox. If you can make a suggestion that may help me to win, I shall be happy to listen to it.”
“Catch the fox, sir?” he repeated, thoughtfully, scratching his head. “Well, sir, it seems to me there's nothin' for it but starting hoff first and not lettin' 'im catch you up. I 'aven't 'unted myself, sir, but I've 'eard tell as 'ow a sharp gent sometimes spots the fox afore any of the hothers. That's 'ow to do it, in my opinion.”
I thought this over and the scheme seemed excellent.
“We shall arrange it thus,” I said: “You will mount one horse and I the other. We shall ride together and look for the fox.”
Conceive of my servant's delight. I do not believe that if I had offered him a hundred pounds he would have felt so much joy.
I dressed myself with the most scrupulous accuracy, for I was resolved that nothing about me should suggest the novice. My pink coat fitted to within half a little wrinkle in an inconspicuous place, my breeches were a miracle of sartorial art, the reflection from my top-boots perceptibly lightened the room. No one at the breakfast-table cut more dash. I had secured a seat beside Miss Trevor-Hudson and we jested together with a friendliness that must have disturbed Lumme, for he watched us furtively, with a dark look on his face, and never addressed a word to a soul all the time.
“I shall expect you to give me a lead to-day,” she said to me.
“Are you well mounted?” I asked.
“I am riding my favorite gray.”
“Ride hard, then,” I said, loud enough for Lumme to hear me. “The lead I give will be a fast one!” Before breakfast was over we had been joined by guest after guest who had come for the meet. Outside the house carriages and dog-carts, spectators on foot, grooms with horses, and sportsmen who had already breakfasted were assembled in dozens, and the crowd was growing greater every moment. I adjusted my shining hat upon my head and went out to look for Halfred. There he was, the centre evidently of considerable interest and admiration, perched high upon one of the gigantic and noble quadrupeds, and grasping the other by the reins. His livery of deep-plum color, relieved by yellow cording, easily distinguished him from all other grooms, while my two steeds appeared scarcely to be able to restrain their generous impatience, for it required three villagers at the head of each to control their exhilaration.
“I congratulate you,” I said to my servant. “Thetout ensembleis excellent.”
At that moment his mount began to plunge like a ship at sea, and the little man went up and down at such a rate that he could only gasp:
“'Old 'im, you there chaw-bacons! 'Old 'im tight! 'E won't 'urt you!”
In response to this petition the villagers leaped out of range and uttered incomprehensible sounds, much to my amusement. This, however, was quickly changed to concern when I observed my own steed suddenly stand upon end and flourish his fore-legs like a heraldic emblem.
“You have overfed them with oats,” I said to Halfred, severely.
0140m
“Oats be—” he began, and then pitched on to the mane, “oats be—” and here he just clutched the saddle in time to save himself from retiring over the tail—“oats be blowed!”
“It ain't oats that's the matter with 'em,” said a bluff voice behind me.
I turned and saw Sir Henry looking with an experienced eye at this performance.
“What is it?” I inquired.
“Vice,” said he. “I know that fiddle-headed brute well; no mistakin' him. It's the beast that broke poor Oswald's neck last season. His widow sold him to a dealer at Rugby for fifteen pounds, and, by Jove! here he is again, just waitin' for a chance to break yours!”
He turned his critical eye to Halfred's refractory steed.
“And I think I remember that dancin' stallion, too,” he added, grimly. “Gad! you'll have some fun to-day, monsieur!”
This was cheerful, but there was no getting out of it now. Indeed, the huntsman and the pack were already leading the way to the first covert and everybody was on the move behind them. I mounted my homicide during one of its calmer intervals, the villagers bolted out of the way, and in a moment we were clearing a course through the throng like a charge of cavalry.
“Steady there, steady!” bawled the master of the hunt. “Keep back, will you?”
With some difficulty I managed to take my mount plunging and sidling out to where Halfred was galloping in circles at a little distance from the rest of the field.
“Where are the hounds?” I cried. “Where is the fox?”
“In among them trees,” replied Halfred, as we galloped together towards the master.
“Let us go after them!” I exclaimed. “Lumme waits behind with the others. Now is our chance!”
“Come on, sir!” said Halfred, and we dashed past the master at a pace that scarcely gave us time to hear the encouraging cry with which he greeted us.
The wood was small, but the trees were densely packed, and it was only by the most miraculous good luck, aided also by skilful management, that we avoided injury from the branches. Somewhere before us we could hear the baying of the hounds, and we directed our course accordingly. Suddenly there arose a louder clamor and we caught a glimpse of white and tan forms leaping towards us. But we scarcely noticed these, for at that same instant we had espied a small, brown animal slipping away almost under our horses' feet.
“The fox!” cried Halfred.
“The fox!” I shouted, bending forward and aiming a blow at it with my whip.
With a loud cheer we turned and burst through the covert in hot pursuit, and, easily out-distancing the 'hounds, broke into the open with nothing before us but Reynard himself. Figure to yourself the sensation!
0143m
Ah, that I could inoculate you with some potent fluid that should set your blood on fire and make you feel the intoxication of that chase as you read my poor, bald words! Over a fence we went and descended on the other side, myself hatless, Halfred no longer perched upon the saddle, but clinging manfully to the more forward portions of his steed. Then, through a wide field of grass we tore. This field was lined all down the farther side by a hedge of thorns quite forty feet high, which the English call a “bulrush.” At one corner I observed a gate, and having never before charged such a barrier, I endeavored to direct my horse towards this. But no! He had seen the fox go through the hedge, and I believe he was inspired by as eager a desire to catch it as I was myself. I shut my eyes, I lowered my head, I felt my cheek torn by something sharp and heard a great crash of breaking branches, and then, behold! I was on the farther side! My spurs had instinctively been driven harder into my horse's flank, and though I had long since dropped my whip, they proved sufficient to encourage him to still greater exertions.
Finding that he was capable of directing his course unassisted, and perceiving also that he had taken the bit so firmly between his teeth as to preclude the possibility of my guiding him with any certainty, I discarded the reins (which of course were now unnecessary), and confined my attention to seeing that he should not be hampered by my slipping on my saddle. One brief glance over my shoulder showed me his stable companion following hard, in spite of the inconvenience of having to support his rider up on his neck, and racing alongside came the foremost hounds. Behind the pack were scattered in a long procession pink coats and galloping horses, dark habits and more galloping horses. I tried to pick out my rival, but at that instant my horse rose to another fence and my attention was distracted.
Another field, this time ploughed, and a stiffer job now for my good horse. Yet he would certainly have overtaken our quarry in a few minutes longer had he selected that part of the next fence I wished him to jump. But, alas! he must take it at its highest, and the ploughed field had proved too exhausting. We rose, there was a crash, and I have a dim recollection of wondering on which portion of my frame I should fall.
Then I knew no more till I found myself in the arms of the faithful Halfred, with neither horse, hounds, fox, nor huntsmen in sight.
“Did you catch it?” I asked.
“No, sir,” said he, “but I give it a rare fright.”
But I had scarcely heard these consoling words before I swooned again.
8000
“You feel yourself insulted? That is fortunate, for otherwise I should have been compelled to!”
—Hercule d'Enville.
9145
ICTURE me now, stretched upon a sofa in the very charming morning-room of Seneschal Court, a little bruised, a little shaken still, but making a quick progress towards recovery. Exasperating, no doubt, to be inactive and an invalid when others are well and spending the day in hunting and shooting, but I had two consolations. First of all, Lumme had not beaten me. He, too, had been dismounted a few fields farther on, and though he had ridden farthest, yet I had gone fastest, and could fairly claim to have at least divided the honors. But consolation number two would, I think, have atoned even in the absence of consolation number one. In two words, this comfort was my nurse. Yes, you can picture Amy Trevor-Hudson sitting by the side of that sofa, intent upon a piece of fancy-work that progresses at the rate of six stitches a day, yet not so intent as to be unable to converse with her guest and patient.
“You are really feeling better to-day?” she asks, with that sparkling glance of her brown eyes that accompanies every word, however trivial.
“Thank you; I have eaten two eggs and a plate of bacon for breakfast, and should doubtless be looking forward now to lunch if my thoughts were not so much more pleasantly employed.”
“Are you thinking, then, that you will soon be well enough to go away?”
“I am thinking,” I reply, “that for some days I shall still be invalid enough to lie here and talk to you.”
She does not look up at this, but I can see a charming smile steal over her face and stay there while I look at her.
“Who did you say these things to last?” she inquires, presently, still looking at her work.
“What things? That I am fond of luncheon—or that I am fond of you?”
“I meant,” she replies, looking at me this time with the archest glance, “what girl did you last tell that you were fond of her?”
Now, honestly, I cannot answer this question off-hand with accuracy. I should have to think, and that is not good for an invalid.
“I cannot tell you, because I do not remember her.” I reply.
She puts a wrong construction on this—as I had anticipated.
“I don't believe you,” she says. “I am sure you must have said these things before.”
“If you think my words are false, how can I help myself?” I ask, with the air of one impaled upon an ignited stake, yet resigned to this position. “I dare not dispute with you, even to save my character, for fear you become angry and leave me.”
She smiles again, gives me another dazzling glance, and then, with the elusiveness of woman, turns the subject to this wonderful piece of work that she is doing.
“What do you think of this flower?” she asks.
To obtain the critical reply she desires entails her coming to the side of the couch and holding one edge of the work while I hold the other. Then I endeavor to hold both edges and somehow find myself holding her hand as well. It happens so naturally that she takes no notice of this occurrence but stands there smiling down at me and talking of this flower while I look up at her face and talk also of the flower. In fact, she seems first conscious of that chance encounter of hands when a step is heard in the passage. Then, indeed, she withdraws to her seat and the very faintest rise in color might be distinguished by one who had acquired the habit of looking at her closely.
It was Dick Shafthead who entered, in riding-breeches and top-boots. I may say, by-the-way, that he had not been reduced to a bicycle. On the contrary, he made an excellent display upon a horse for one who affected to be too poor to ride.
“My horse went lame,” he explained, “so I thought I'd come back and have a look at the patient.”
From his look I could sec that he was unprepared to find me already provided with a nurse. Not that it was the first time she had been here—but then I did not happen to have mentioned that to Dick. In a few moments Amy left us and he looked with a quizzical smile first at the door through which she had gone and then at me.
“You take it turn about, I see,” he said. “I didn't know the arrangement or I shouldn't have interrupted.”
“I beg your pardon?” I replied. “Either my head is still somewhat confused or I do not understand English as well as I thought.”
“I imagined Teddy was having a walk-over,” said he, with a laugh.
None are so quick of apprehension as the jealous. Already a dark suspicion smote me.
“Do you allude to Miss Trevor-Hudson?” I asked.
“Who else?”
“And you thought Teddy was having what you call a walk-over?”
“I did,” said Dick. “But it is none of my business.”
“It is my business,” I replied, “to see that this charming lady does not have her name associated with a man she only regards as the merest acquaintance.”
“Has she told you that is how she looks on Teddy?”
“She has.”
Dick laughed outright.
“What are your hours?” he asked. “When does Miss Hudson visit the sick-bed?”
“If you must know,” I replied, “she has had the kindness to visit me every morning; also in the evening.”
“Then Teddy has the afternoons,” said he.
“But he has been hunting.”
“He comes home after lunch, I notice,” laughed Dick.
“I became angry.
“Do you mean that Miss Hudson—”
“Is an incorrigible flirt? Yes,” said he.
“Shafthead, you go too far!” I cried.
“My dear monsieur, I withdraw and I apologize,” he answers, with his most disarming smile. “Have it as you wish. Only—don't let her make a fool of you.”
He turned and walked out of the room whistling, and I was left to digest this dark thought.
Certainly it was true that I did not see much of her in the afternoons, but then, I argued, she had doubtless household duties. Her mother was an affected woman who loved posing as an invalid and had stayed in her room ever since the ball. Therefore she had to entertain the guests; and, now I came to think of it, Lumme would naturally press his suit whenever he saw a chance, and how could she protect herself? Certainly she could never compare that ridiculous little man with—well, with any one you please. It was absurd! I laughed at the thought. Yet I became particularly anxious to see her again.
0150m
In the evening she came for a few minutes to cheer my solitude. She could not stay; yet she sat down. I must be very sensible; yet she listened to my compliments with a smile. She was ravishing in her simple dress of white, that cost, I should like to wager, some fabulous price in Paris; she was charming; she was kind. Yes, she had been created to be a temptation to man, like the diamonds in her hair; and she perfectly understood her mission. Inevitably man must wish to play with her, to caress her, to have her all to himself; and inevitably he must get into that state when he is willing to pay any price for this possession. And she was willing to make him—and not unwilling to make another pay also. Indeed, I do not think she could conceivably have had too many admirers.
But I did not criticise her thus philosophically that evening. Instead, I said to her:
“I was afraid I should not see you till to-morrow—and perhaps not to-morrow.”
“Not to-morrow?” she asked. “Are you going away, after all?”
“I shall be here; but you?”
“And I suppose I must visit my patient.”
“But if Mr. Lumme does not go hunting—will you then have time to spare?”
She rose and said, as if offended, “I don't think you want to see me very much.”
Yet she did not go. On the contrary, she stood so close to me that I was able to seize her hand and draw her towards me.
“Ah, no!” I cried, “Give me my turn!”
“Your turn?” she asked, drawing away a little.
“Yes; what can I hope for but a brief turn? I am but one of your admirers, and if you are kind to all—”
I paused. She gave me a bright glance, a little smile that drove away all prudence.
“Amy!” I cried; “I have something to give you!”
And I gave her—a kiss.
She protested, but not very stoutly.
0152m
“I have something else,” I said. And I was about to present her with a very similar offering—indeed, I was almost in the act of presentation, when she started from me with a cry of, “Let me go!” and before I could detain her she had fled from the room. In her flight she passed a man who was standing at the door, and it was he who spoke next.
“You damned, scoundrelly frog-eater!” he remarked.
It was the voice of my rival, Lumme!
“Ah, monsieur!” I exclaimed, springing up. “You have come to act the spy, I see.”
“I haven't,” he replied. “I came for Miss Hudson—and I came just in time, too!”
“No,” I said, “not just; half a minute after.”
“You dirty, sneaky, French beast!” he cried. “I bring you to a decent house—the first you've ever been to—and you go shamming * sick to get a chance of insulting a virtuous girl!”
“Shamming!” I cried. “Insulting! What words are these?”
“Do you mean to say you aren't shamming? You can walk as well as me!”
* It is a legend among the English that we subsistprincipally upon frogs.—-D'H.
Unquestionably I was more recovered than I had admitted to myself while convalescence was so pleasant, and now I had risen from my couch I discovered, to my surprise, that there seemed little the matter with me. That, however, could not excuse the imputation. Besides, I had been addressed by several epithets, each one of which conveyed an insult.
“You vile, low, little English pig!” I replied; “you know the consequences of your language, I suppose?”
“I'm glad to see it makes you sit up,” he replied.
I advanced a step and struck him on the face, and then, seeing that he was about to assault me with his fists, I laid him on the floor with a well-directed kick on the chest.
“Now,” I said, as he rose, “will you fight, or are you afraid?”
“Fight?” he screamed. “Yes; if you'll fight fair, you kicking froggy!”
“As to the weapons,” I replied, “I am willing to leave that question in the hands of our seconds—swords or pistols—it is all the same to me.”
He looked for a moment a little taken aback by my readiness.
“Ah,” I smiled, “you do not enjoy the prospect very much?”
“If you think I'm going to funk you with any dashed weapons, you are mistaken,” said Teddy, hotly. “We don't fight like that in England, but I won't stand upon that. My second is Dick Shafthead.”
“And I shall request Mr. Tonks to act for me,” I replied. “The sooner the better, I presume?”
“To-morrow morning will suit me,” said he.
“Very well,” I answered. “I shall now send a note by my servant to Mr. Tonks.”
I bowed with scrupulous politeness, and he, with an endeavor to imitate this courtesy, withdrew.
Then I rang for Halfred.
8000
“An animal I should define as a man who fights in a sensible way for a reasonable end.”
9156
XTRACT from my journal at this time:
“Wednesday Night.
“All is arranged. Tonks and Shafthead have endeavored to dissuade us, but words have passed that cannot be overlooked, and Lumme is as resolute to fight as I. I must do him that credit. At last, seeing that we are determined, they have consented to act if we will leave all arrangements in their hands. We are both of us willing, and all we know is that we meet at daybreak to-morrow in a place to be selected by our seconds. Even the weapons have not yet been decided. Should I fall and this writing pass into the hands of others, I wish them to know that these two gentlemen, Mr. La Rabide, Shafthead and Mr. Tonks, have done their best to procure a bloodless issue. In these circumstances I also wish Mr. Lumme to know that I fully forgive him.
“My will is now made, and Halfred is remembered in it. Another, too, will not find herself forgotten. My watch and chain and my signet-ring I have bequeathed to Amy. Farewell, dear maiden! Do not altogether forget me!
“Halfred is perturbed, poor fellow, at the chance of losing a master whom, I think, he has already learned to venerate. Yet he has a fine spirit, and it is his chief regret that the etiquette of the duel will not permit him to be a spectator.
“'Aim at 'is wind, sir,' he advised me. 'That oughter double 'im up if you gets 'im fair. And perhaps, sir, if you was to give 'im the second barrel somewhere about the point of 'is jaw, sir, things would be made more certain-like.'
“'And what if he aims at these places himself?' I asked.
“'Duck, sir, the minute you see 'im a-pulling of his trigger—like this, sir.'
“He showed me how to 'duck' scientifically, and I gravely thanked him. I had not the heart to tell how different are the fatal circumstances of the duel, his devotion touched me so. I have told him to lay out my best dark suit, a white shirt, my patent-leather boots, and a black tie that will not make a mark for the bullet. He is engaged at present in packing the rest of my things, for, whatever the issue, I cannot stay longer here. Farewell again. Amy! Now I shall write to my friends in France, and warn them of the possibilities that may arise. Then to bed!”
I have given this extract at length, that it may be seen how grave we all considered the situation, and also to disprove the common idea that Englishmen do not regard the duel seriously. They are, however, a nation of sportsmen, whose warfare is waged against the “furs and feathers.” and the refinements of single combat practised elsewhere are little appreciated, as will presently appear.
It was scarcely yet daylight when I left my room, and with a little difficulty made my way along dim corridors and down shadowy stairs to the garden door, by which it had been decided we could most stealthily escape to the rendezvous. Through the trimmed evergreens and the paths where the leaf-fall of the night still lay unswept I picked my course upon a quiet foot that left plain traces in the dew, but made no sound to rouse the sleeping house. A wicket-gate led me out into the park, and there I followed a path towards an oak paling that formed the boundary along that side. At the end of this path a gate in the paling took me into a narrow lane, and this gate was to be our rendezvous.
As I advanced, I saw between the trees a solitary figure leaning against the paling, and I was assured that my adversary at least had not failed me. Looking back, I next caught sight of the seconds following me, and I delayed my steps so that I only reached Lumme a minute or so before them. We raised our hats and bowed in silence. He looked pale, but I could not deny that his expression was full of spirit, and I felt for him that respect which a brave man always inspires in one of my martial race.
His costume I certainly took exception to, for, instead of the decorous garments called for by the occasion, he was attired in a light check suit, with leather leggings and a pale-blue waistcoat, and, indeed, rather suggested a morning's sport than the business we had come upon. This, however, might be set down to his inexperience, and, as a matter of fact, he was outdone by our seconds, for, in addition to wearing somewhat similar clothes, they each carried a gun and a cartridge-bag. Evidently, I thought, they had brought these to disarm suspicion in case the party were observed. Their demeanor was beyond reproach, and, indeed, surprising, considering that they had never before acted either as principals or seconds. They raised their hats and bowed with formality.
“Good-morning, gentlemen,” said Shafthead.
He took the lead throughout, my second, Tonks, concurring in everything he said.
“You still wish to fight?”
Lumme and I both bowed.
“You both refuse to settle your differences amicably?”
“I refuse,” replied Lumme.
“And I, certainly,” I said.
“Very well,” said Dick, “it only remains to assure you that the loser will be decently interred.”
Here both he and Tonks were obviously affected by a very natural emotion; with a distinct effort he cleared his throat and resumed:
“And to tell you the conditions of the combat. Here are the weapons.”
Conceive our astonishment when we were each solemnly handed a double-barrelled shot-gun and a bagful of No. 5 cartridges! Even Lumme recognized the unsuitability of these firearms.
“I say, hang it!” he exclaimed; “I'm not going to fight with these!”
“Tonks, I protest!” I said, warmly. “This is absurd.”
“Only things you're going to get,” replied Tonks, stolidly.
“Gentlemen,” said Shafthead, with more courtesy, “you have agreed to fight in any method we decide. If you back out now we can only suppose that you are afraid of getting hurt—and in that case why do you fight at all?”
“All right, then,” replied Lumme, with anélanI must give him every credit for; “I'm game.”
“And I am in your hands,” said I, with a shrug that was intended to protest, not against the danger, but the absurdity of the weapons. “At what distance do we stand?”
“In that matter we propose to introduce another novelty” replied Dick.
“To make it more sporting,” explained Tonks. “Just so,” said Dick. “You see that plantation? We are going to put one of you in one end and the other in the other; you have each fifty cartridges, and you can fire as soon as you meet and as often as you please. One of the seconds will remain at either end to welcome the survivor.”
“Oh, that's not a bad idea,” said Lumme, brightening up.
I had my own opinion on this unheard-of innovation, but I kept it to myself.
“Now you toss for ends,” said Tonks. “Call.” He spun a shilling, and Lumme called “Heads.”
“Heads it is,” said Tonks. “Which end?”
“It doesn't make much difference, I suppose,” replied Teddy. “I'll start from this end.”
“Right you are,” said Dick. “Au revoir, monsieur. When you are ready to enter the wood fire a cartridge to let us know. Here is an extra one I have left for signalling.”
I bowed and followed my second across the lane and through a narrow gate in a high hedge that bounded the side farthest from the park. Lumme was left with Shafthead in the lane to make his way to the nearest end of the wood, so that I should see no more of him till we met gun to shoulder in the thickets. I confess that at that moment I could think only of our past friendship and his genial virtues, and it was with a great effort that I forced myself to recall his insults and harden my heart.
We now walked down a long field shut in by trees on either hand. At the farther end from the lane these plantations almost met, so that they and the hedge enclosed the field all the way round except for one narrow gap. Here Tonks stopped and turned.
“You enter here,” he said, indicating the wood on the right-hand side of this gap, “and you work your way back till you meet him. By-the-way, if you happen to hear shots anywhere else pay no attention. The keeper often comes out after rabbits in the early morning.”
“But if he hears us?” I asked.
“Oh, we've made that right He knows we are out shooting. Good luck.”
I would at least have clasped the hand of possibly the last man I should ever talk with. I should have left some message, said something; but with the phlegmatic coolness of his nation he had turned away before I had time to reply. For a moment I watched him strolling nonchalantly from me with his hands in his pockets, and then I fired my gun in the air and stepped into the trees.
Well, it might be an unorthodox method of duelling, but there could be no questioning the element of hazard and excitement. Here was I at one end of a narrow belt of trees, not thirty yards wide and nearly a quarter of a mile in length, and from the other came a man seeking my life. Every moment must bring us nearer together, till before long each thicket, each tree-stem, might conceal the muzzle of his gun. And the trees and undergrowth were dense enough to afford shelter to a whole company.
Three plans only were possible. First, I might remain where I was and trust to catching him unnerved, and perhaps careless, at the end of a long and fruitless search. But this I dismissed at once as unworthy of a man of spirit, and, indeed, impossible for my temperament. Secondly, I might advance at an even pace and probably meet him about the middle. This also I dismissed as being the procedure he would naturally expect me to adopt. Finally, I might advance with alacrity and encounter him before I was expected. And this was the scheme I adopted.
At a good pace I pushed my way through the branches and the thorns, wishing now, I must confess, that I had adopted a costume more suitable for this kind of warfare, till I had turned the corner of the field and advanced for a little distance up the long side. While I was walking down with Tonks I had taken the precaution of noting a particularly large pine which seemed as nearly as possible the half-way mark, but now a disconcerting reflection struck me. That pine was, indeed, half-way down the side of the field, but I had also had half of the end to traverse, so that the point at which we should meet, going at a similar pace, would be considerably nearer than I had calculated. Supposing, then, that Lumme was also hastening to meet me, he might even now be close at hand! I crouched behind a thorn-bush and listened.
It was a still, delightful morning; the sun just risen; the air fresh; no motion in the branches. Every little sound could be distinctly heard, and presently I heard one; a something moving in another thicket not ten paces away. I raised my gun, aimed carefully, and pulled the trigger.
The stealthy sound ceased, and instead a pheasant flew screaming out of the wood. No longer could there be any doubt of my position. I executed a strategic retreat for a short distance to upset my enemy's calculations and waited for his approach. But I heard nothing except two or three shots from the plantation across the field, where the keeper had evidently begun his shooting. I advanced again, though more cautiously, but in a very short time was brought to a sudden stand-still by a movement in a branch overhead. The diabolical thought flashed through my mind, “He is aiming at me from a tree!”
Instantly I raised my gun and discharged both barrels into the leaves. There came down, not Lumme, but a squirrel; yet the incident inspired me with an idea. I chose a suitable tree, and, having scrambled up with some difficulty (which was not lessened by the thought that I might be shot in the act), I waited for my rival to pass below.
0166m
Five minutes passed—ten—fifteen. I heard more shots from the keeper's gun. I slew two foxes and a pheasant which were ill-advised enough to make a suspicious stir in the undergrowth; but not a sign of Lumme. I had not even heard him fire one shot since the duel began. Some mystery here, evidently. Perhaps he was waiting patiently for me to approach within a few paces of the lane whence he started. And I—should I court his cartridges by falling into a trap I had thought of laying myself?
Yet one of us must move, or we should be the laughing-stock of the country-side, and if one of two must attack, the brave man can be in no doubt as to which that is. I descended, and with infinite precautions slowly pushed my way forward, raking with my shot every bush that might conceal a foe. Suddenly between the trees I saw a man—undoubtedly a man this time. I put my hand in my cartridge-bag. One cartridge remaining, besides two in my chambers; three cartridges against a man who had still left fifty! Yet three would be sufficient if I could but get them home.
Carefully I crept on my hands and knees to within a dozen paces; then I raised my head, and behold! it was Tonks I saw standing in the lane leaning against the paling of the park! But Lumme? Ah, I had it. He had fled!
Shouldering my gun, I stepped out of the wood.
“Hillo!” cried Tonks. “Bagged him?”
“No,” I said.
“Been hit?” he asked. “You look in rather a mess.”
And indeed I did, for my clothes had been rent by the thorns, my face and my hands torn, and doubtless I showed also some mental signs of the ordeal I had been through. For remember that though I had not met an adversary, I had braved the risk of it at every step. And I had made those steps.
“No,” I replied. “I have not even been fired at.”
“I heard a regular cannonade,” he said.
“Forty-seven times have I fired at a venture,” I answered. “And I have not been inaccurate in my aim. In that wood you will find the bodies of four squirrels, five pheasants, and two foxes.”
“But where is Lumme?” he inquired.
“Fled,” I replied, with an intonation of contempt I could not conceal.
“What! funked it?”
“I saw no sign of him.”
“By Jove! that's bad,” said Tonks, though in so matter-of-course a tone that I was astonished. A man of a sluggish spirit, I fear, was my cricketing second.
“Let us call Shafthead,” I said. “For myself, my honor is satisfied, and I shall leave him and you to deal with the runaway.”
We walked together along the lane till we came to the gate in the hedge through which we had started for the wood. Through this we could see right down the field, and there, coming towards us, walked Shafthead and Lumme.
“The devil!” I exclaimed.
“By Jove!” said Tonks.
“Can you explain this?” I asked him.
“I? No; unless you passed each other.”
“Passed!” I cried, scornfully.
I threw the gate open and advanced to meet them. To my surprise, Lumme looked at me with no sign of shame, but rather with indignation.
“Well,” he cried to me, “you're a fine man to fight a duel. Been in a ditch?”
“Poltroon!” I replied. “Where did you hide yourself?”
“I hide?” said he. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Do you mean to tell me that you men never met?” asked Shafthead.
“Never!” we cried together.
“Tonks,” said he, “into which plantation did you put your man?”
“The right-hand one,” said Tonks.
“The right!” exclaimed Dick. “Then you have been in different woods! Oh, Tonks, this is scandalous!”
But my second had already turned his head away, and seemed so bowed by contrition that my natural anger somewhat relented.
“Possibly your own directions were not clear,” I suggested.
“Ah,” said Dick, “I see how it was! He must have turned round, and that made his right hand his left.”
“Well,” said Lumme, “you've made a nice mess of it. What's to be done now?”