Frank Fairlegh Part 32

"How in the world do you know anything about him?"

"Oh! it's a long story, but the chief points of it are these: The aforesaid Mr. Wilford, if he can continue to exist till he is five-and-twenty, comes into five thousand pounds a year; but if we don't interfere, and Harry Oaklands has the luck to send a bullet into him to-morrow morning, away it all goes to the next heir. Wilford is now three-and-twenty, and the trustees make him a liberal allowance of eight hundred pounds per annum, on the strength of which he spends between two thousand pounds and three thousand pounds: of course, in order -207--to do this, he has to raise money on his expectancies. About two months ago he wanted to sell the contingent reversion of a large estate in Yorks.h.i.+re, from which the greater part of his future income is to be derived; and a client of ours thought of buying it--ergo, we were set to work upon the matter: whilst we were investigating his right, t.i.tle, and all that sort of thing, lo and behold! a heavy claim, amounting to some thousands, is made upon the property--by whom, do you think, of all people in the world?--none other than our old acquaintance, Richard c.u.mberland!"

"Good heavens!" exclaimed I, "how strange!"

"c.u.mberland," continued Freddy, "has become somehow connected with a lot of bill-brokers,--low stock-jobbers,--in fact, a very shady set of people, with whom, however, in our profession, we cannot avoid being sometimes brought into contact; he appears, indeed, himself to be a sort of cross between black-leg and money-lender, improved by a considerable dash of the gambler, and presenting altogether a very choice specimen of the thorough and complete blackguard. Somehow or other he contrives to have cash at command, and, instead of being pigeoned, has now taken to pigeoning others; and, to give the devil his due, I fancy he does a very pretty stroke of business in that line. He is a good deal improved in manner and appearance since you remember him; and among people who don't know him very intimately, he affects the man about town: in short, he is quite at the top of his profession. Wilford became acquainted with him at one of the Newmarket meetings, lost money to him, and borrowed money of him, giving him as security a contingent charge upon the estate of double the amount--ergo, don't you see, if Wilford should by any chance get his quietus from Harry's pistol, he won't live to come into his property, in which case Master d.i.c.ky c.u.mberland is minus some thousands.

Now, if I contrive to give him a hint, depend upon it he stops the duel.

I will caution him not to let my name appear--he will not hear yours; so in this way I think we may manage the affair, and defy the old gentleman himself, though he's a very cunning lawyer, to trace it to us."

"Well," said I, "as I see no other means of saving Oaklands' life--for this Wilford is a noted duellist, and no doubt thirsts to wash out the insult he has received in blood--I suppose we must do it; but it is an underhand proceeding which I do not at all like."

"There you go with your chivalric, high-flown, romantic -208--notions, you would stand coolly by, and see the best friend you have in the world butchered before your eyes, rather than avail yourself of a splendid chance of saving him, which Fortune has thrown in your way, because, forsooth, it involves a little innocent manoeuvring!--for heaven's sake, my dear boy, get off your stilts, and give common sense fair play."

"I can only repeat what I have just said," replied I; "I will do it, because I believe it is the only thing to save Harry; but I do not like it, and never shall."

"I cry you mercy, Signor Francisco dc Fairlegh, the veritable Don Quixote of the nineteenth century," laughed Freddy; "and now, most chivalrous sir, where do you imagine it probable that this evil _faiteur_, this man of powder and pistols, hangs out?"

"He is most likely at the inn at Carsley, a village on the London road, about four miles from us," replied I; "I don't know of any other place in the neighbourhood where he could be lodged. But I'll tell you what I'll do--the name of the inn is the White Horse--if I should prove wrong in fancying he is there, I will send a message to that inn to say where he may be found."

"Exactly," returned Freddy, entering the White Horse, Carsley, in his tablets; "now I think I know all about it, and it shall not be my fault if this duel comes off to-morrow morning. Good-bye, old fellow! I wish you did not look quite so grumpy about it, but it's all those mediaeval prejudices of yours. I daresay you'd think it a much more manly way of stopping the business to electrotype yourself in bra.s.s and steel, throw yourself across a cart-horse plated to match, and shouting, 'Fairlegh to the rescue!' run a long pole, pointed with iron, through Wilford's jugular. Now, I consider mine much the most philosophical way of doing the trick; in fact, conducting a dodge of this kind always affords me intense satisfaction, and puts me into the highest possible spirits. Have you ever seen the war dance, in which the Hotto-potto-c.u.m-from-the-wash-ki Indians usually indulge before they set out on an expedition?--A quarter to three," he continued, pulling out his watch, "the coach to London pa.s.ses in five minutes, I shan't have time to show it you--it begins so." Thus saying, he flung himself into a perfectly indescribable att.i.tude, and commenced a series of evolutions, more nearly resembling the contortions of a dancing bear, than any other Terpsich.o.r.ean exhibition with which I was acquainted. Having continued this until he had made himself very -209--unnecessarily hot, he wound up the performance by flinging a summerset, in doing which he overturned himself and the coal-scuttle into a box of deeds; whereby becoming embarra.s.sed, he experienced much difficulty in getting right end upwards again. "There," he exclaimed, throwing himself into an arm-chair commonly occupied by his father's portly form--"There! talk of accomplishments--show me a fas.h.i.+onable young lady who can do that, and I'll say she _is_ accomplished. It's rather warm work, though," he continued, wiping his brow, "unless one wears the appropriate costume, which, I believe, consists of a judicious mixture of red and yellow paint, three feathers, and the scalp of your opposite neighbour.

Pleasant that," he added, pointing to the reversed coal-scuttle--"that's a new addition, not of 'c.o.ke upon Littleton,' but of Coal upon--what's the suit? aye, Buffer _versus_ Stoker. I shall have to make out a case of circ.u.mstantial evidence against the cat, or I'm safe for a rowing from the governor. Good-bye, old boy! don't fancy I'm mad; I'm not the fool I seem, though I confess appearances are against me just at present. There's the coach, by Jingo, three bays and a grey--no chance of the box--is this a hat? off we go." So saying, he shook my hand warmly, bounded down the steps, and the next moment was rattling away towards London as fast as four horses could hurry him.

It was with a heavy heart, and a foreboding of coming evil, that I mounted my horse, and slowly retraced my way towards Heathfield.

Coleman's exuberant spirits, which, I believe, were partly a.s.sumed with a view to cheer me by diverting my attention from the painful subject which engrossed it, had produced an effect diametrically opposite to that which he had intended, and I felt dissatisfied with the step I had taken, doubtful of the success of his mission, anxious to a degree, which was absolutely painful, about the fate of Harry, and altogether thoroughly miserable. I reached home in time for dinner, during which meal my abstracted manner and low spirits were so apparent as to set my mother speculating on the chances of my having over-heated myself and "got a chill," whilst f.a.n.n.y's anxious questioning glances, to which I was well aware I could furnish no satisfactory reply, produced in me a degree of nervous excitement which was unbearable, and, the moment the cloth was withdrawn, I left the room and rambled forth into the wildest parts of the park. The quiet peaceful beauty of the scene, and the refres.h.i.+ng coolness of the -210--evening air, had, in a great measure, calmed the excitement under which I laboured, and I was turning my steps towards the Hall when I met Oaklands and Archer, who, finding I was not at the cottage, had come in search of me. Half an hour's conversation served to render all my previous conjectures matters of certainty. The challenge had been given and accepted, Wentworth was to be Wilford's second, and he and his princ.i.p.al were staying at the inn at Carsley.

The spot chosen for the scene of action was a plot of gra.s.s-land situated about half-way between Carsley and Heathfield, so as to be equally accessible to both parties; the time appointed was five o'clock the following morning. Archer was to act as Oaklands' second; everything had been managed with the greatest caution, and they did not believe a single creature, excepting themselves, had the slightest suspicion that such an event was likely to take place. They had resolved not to tell me till everything was settled, as they feared my opposition. Having thus taken me into their confidence, Archer left us, saying, that "probably Oaklands might like to have some private conversation with me, and he would join us again in half an hour". Rejoiced at this opportunity, I entered at once upon the subject which most interested me, and used every argument I could think of to induce Harry not to return Wilford's fire.

Oaklands heard me for some time in silence, and I began to fear my efforts would be fruitless, when suddenly he turned towards me, and said--his fine eyes beaming with an almost womanly expression of tenderness as he spoke--"Would this thing make you happier in case I fall?" A silent pressure of the hand was my only answer, and he added in a low voice, "then it shall be as you wish". A pause ensued for my own part, the thought that this might be our last meeting completely overpowered me; I did not know till that moment the strength and intensity of my affection for him. The silence was at length interrupted by Oaklands himself, and the low tones of his deep rich voice trembled with emotion, as they fell mournfully on the stillness of the evening air. "My father!" he said, "that kind old man, whose happiness is wrapped up in my welfare--it will break his heart, for he has only me to love. Frank, my brother!" he added, pa.s.sing his arm round my neck, as he had used to do when we were boys together, "you are young; your mind is strong and vigorous, and will enable you to meet sorrow as a man should confront and overcome whatever is -211--opposed to him in his path through life. I will not disguise from you that, looking rationally and calmly at the matter, I have but little hope of quitting the field to-morrow alive. My antagonist, naturally a man of vindictive disposition, is incensed against me beyond all power of forgiveness, and his skill is fully equal to his malice: should I fall, I leave my father to your care; be a son to him in the place of the one he will have lost.

This is not a light thing which I ask of you, Frank! I ask you to give up your independence, your high hopes of gaining name and fortune by the exercise of your own talents and industry, and to devote some of the best years of your life to the weary task of complying with the caprices, and bearing the sorrows, of a grief-stricken old man. Will you do this for me, Frank?"

"I will," replied I; "and may G.o.d help me, as I execute this trust faithfully!"

"You have relieved my mind of half its burden," returned Oaklands warmly. "I have only one thing more to mention--When I came of age last year my father's liberality made over to me an ample income for a single man to live on: excepting a few legacies to old servants, I have divided this between your good little sister and yourself, which I thought you would prefer to my leaving it to you alone."

"Harry I indeed, I cannot allow you to do this; others must surely have claims upon you."

"There is not a being in the world who has a right to expect a farthing at my death," answered he; "the next heir to the entailed estates is a distant relation in Scotland, already wealthy. My father has always been a careful man, and, should he lose me, will have a larger income than he can possibly be able to spend; besides, as the duties I have led you to undertake must necessarily prevent you from engaging actively in any profession, I am bound in common fairness to provide for you."

"Be it so, then," replied I--inwardly breathing a prayer that I never might possess a sixpence of the promised fortune.

"One thing more," added Harry. "When you return to Trinity--poor old Trinity, shall I ever visit you again!--find out how Lizzie Maurice is going on, and if she should marry respectably in her own rank, ask my father to give you a hundred pounds as a wedding present for her; only hint that it was my wish, and he would give twenty times the sum. And now good--pshaw!" he continued, drawing his hand across his eyes, "I shall -212--play the woman if I talk to you much more--good-night, Frank--do you accompany us to the ground to-morrow morning?"

"I will go with you," returned I, with difficulty overcoming a choking sensation in my throat; "I may be able to be of some use."

"Here comes Archer," said Oaklands, "so once more good-night; I must get home, or my father will wonder what is become of me."

My heart was too full to speak, and pressing his hand I turned abruptly away, and walked quickly in the opposite direction.

CHAPTER XXVII -- THE DUEL

"The sun begins to gild the western sky, And now it is about the very hour.

They will not fail, Unless it be to come before their time; So much they spur their expedition."

--_Shakspeare_.

"Now go thy way: faintness constraineth me To measure out my length on this cold bed."

--_Shakspeare_.

"And me they bore.....

To one deep chamber shut from sound, and due To languid limbs and sickness."

--_Tennyson's Princess_.

I DID not return to the cottage until the usual hour for going to bed, as I did not dare subject myself to f.a.n.n.y's penetrating glance in my present state of excitement. The moment family prayers were concluded I took my candle, and, pleading fatigue, retired to my room. Knowing that sleep was out of the question in my then frame of mind, I merely subst.i.tuted the clothes I intended to wear in the morning for those I had on, and, wrapping my dressing-gown round me, flung myself on the bed. Here I lay, tossing about, and unable to compose myself for an hour or two, the one idea constantly recurring to me, "What if Coleman should fail!" At length, feverish and excited, I sprang up, and throwing open the window which was near the ground, enjoyed the fresh breeze as it played around my heated temples. It was a lovely night; the stars, those calm eyes of heaven, gazed down in their brightness on this world of -213--sin and sorrow, seeming to reproach the stormy pa.s.sions and restless strife of men by contrast with their own impa.s.sive grandeur.

After remaining motionless for several minutes, I was about to close the window when the sound of a footstep on the turf beneath caught my ear, and a form, which I recognised in the moonlight as that of Archer, approached.

"Up and dressed already, Fairlegh?" he commenced in a low tone as he perceived me; "may I come in?"

In silence I held out my hand to him, and a.s.sisted him to enter.

"Like me," he resumed, "I suppose, you could not sleep."

"Utterly impossible," replied I; "but what brings you here--has anything occurred?"

"Nothing," returned Archer; "Oaklands retired early, as he said he wished to be alone, and I followed his example, but could not contrive to sleep. I don't know how it is, I was engaged in an affair of this nature once before, and never cared a pin about the matter; but somehow I have got what they call a presentiment that harm will come of to-morrow's business. I saw that man, Wilford, for a minute yesterday, and I know by the expression of his eye that he means mischief; there was such a look of fiendish triumph in his face when he found the challenge was accepted--if ever there was a devil incarnate, he is one."

A sigh was my only answer, for his words were but the echo of my forebodings.

"Now I will tell you what brought me here," he continued; "don't you think that we ought to have a surgeon on the ground, in case of anything going wrong?"

"To be sure," replied I; "I must have been mad to have forgotten that it was necessary--what can be done?--it is not every man that would choose to be mixed up with such an affair. Where is it that William Ellis's brother (Ellis of Trinity Hall, you know) has settled?--he told me he had purchased a practice somewhere in our neighbourhood."

"The very man, if we could but get him," replied Archer; "the name of the village is Harley End; do you know such a place?"

"Yes," returned I, "I know it well; it is a favourite meet of the hounds, about twelve miles hence. I'll find him, and bring him here--what time is it? just two--if I could get a horse I would do it easily."

"My tilbury and horse are up at the village," said -214--Archer; "now Harry's horses are at home, they could not take mine in at the hall."

"The very thing," said I, "we shall not lose a moment in that case. Is your horse fast? I shall have to try his mettle."

"He'll not fail you," was the reply, "but don't spare him--I would rather you should ruin fifty horses than arrive too late."

On reaching the inn we had to rouse a drowsy hostler in order to procure the key of the stables, and it was half-past two before I was able, to start.

The road to Harley End was somewhat intricate, more than once I took a wrong turning, and was forced to retrace my steps; being aware also of the distance I had to perform, I did not dare to hurry the horse too much, so that it only wanted a quarter to four when I reached my destination. Here, however, fortune favoured me. Mr. Ellis, it appeared, being an ardent disciple of Isaac Walton, had resolved to rise at day-break in order to beguile sundry trout, and, at the entrance of the village, I met him strolling along, rod in hand. Two minutes sufficed to make him acquainted with the object of my mission, and in less than five minutes more (a s.p.a.ce of time which I employed in was.h.i.+ng out the horse's mouth at an opportune horse-trough, with which I took the liberty of making free) he had provided himself with a case of instruments and other necessary horrors, all of which he described to me _seriatim_, as we returned, with an affectionate minuteness for which I could have strangled him.

We started at a rattling pace on our homeward drive, hedgerow and fence gliding by us like slides in a magic lantern. Archer's horse did not belie the character he had given of him. With head erect, and expanded nostril, he threw his legs forward in a long slas.h.i.+ng trot, whirling the light tilbury along at the rate of at least eleven miles an hour; and fortunate it was that he did not flinch from his work, for we had between thirteen and fourteen miles to perform in an hour and ten minutes in order to reach the appointed spot by five o'clock. In our way we had to pa.s.s within a quarter of a mile of Heathfield Hall; all seemed quiet as we did so, and I heard the old clock over the stables strike a quarter to five.