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The Pit Town Coronet Volume I Part 12

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"Most unfortunate. Well, we must try our luck with a regulation sabre; they can't well refuse it; ours is the stronger and bigger man. I don't think there's any room for doubt, eh? But it's a precious nuisance.

Man's got his wife here too. It's sure to be in the papers. Beastly nuisance; we shall all have to clear out, for I suppose it won't be a mere matter of scratches. It must come off at once too, or we shall be suspected of s.h.i.+rking. I think that's the only course," said the general as he pulled down his wristbands.

"I'm afraid so," said his lords.h.i.+p.

They rejoined the Frenchman.

"Monsieur de Kerguel," said the general, seating himself, "we have elected to choose sabres, regulation sabres; you have no objection, I suppose?"

"Sir, the weapon is unusual. As you are doubtless aware, between civilians the small-sword, the rapier and the pistol are what are usually employed. The sabre is unusual, and as a rule only employed in settling the little differences of officers of cavalry."

"Monsieur de Kerguel, his lords.h.i.+p and I are here in the interests of our friend Haggard. You are possibly unaware that among English gentlemen the duel has ceased to be a means in these degenerate days of settling disputes. Unfortunately our princ.i.p.al has directed us in writing to agree to your wishes; and his lords.h.i.+p here has, somewhat indiscreetly, I must remark, taken you into his confidence. As he has done so, sir," said the general, "and bearing in mind that we are in a foreign country, and that unfortunately a blow has been struck, we feel ourselves reluctantly compelled to accept the proposed meeting. It is therefore our duty, sir, to protect our princ.i.p.al, and we cannot consent to abate one jot or t.i.ttle of our rights. Should you decline the weapon proposed no meeting can evidently take place," here the general gave a little sigh; "Lord Spunyarn is of the same opinion. It is then for you to accept or refuse; in the latter case the matter must definitely end here."

The Frenchman paused and thought.

"Unfortunately, gentlemen," he replied, "my princ.i.p.al has left me no choice; he naturally declines any apology----"

"You will please to observe. Monsieur de Kerguel, that we have offered none," interrupted the general; "in our humble opinion the original insult, as well as the challenge, comes from you, and we cannot deviate from our position. We decline to modify our terms in any way. And I would respectfully suggest that this interview must definitely terminate the matter one way or the other. I would remark," fiercely added the general, "that neither we nor our princ.i.p.al are to be cajoled or intimidated."

"It shall be as you say, general. Nothing remains then, I think, for us but to name a time and place. The weapons, the most unusual weapons, we are reluctantly compelled to accept under protest. Have you any suggestion to offer, general?"

"None whatever, sir. One party shall provide a surgeon, the other a pair of ordinary cavalry sabres. You as a resident in this infernal hole can doubtless suggest a suitable spot for the meeting. Of course you will be provided with a second friend. As to time, the sooner the better. We then, if it suits you, will bring a pair of regulation sabres. You, perhaps, will bring a doctor who will act for both men. Perhaps you will also oblige us by naming the time and place of meeting."

"Gentlemen, the mill at St. Stefano is only four miles off; it is secluded; we shall not be disturbed. You know the place? Five o'clock will, I think, suit us all? Is it agreed?"

The general bowed.

"Gentlemen, I have the honour to salute you," said Monsieur de Kerguel with a profound obeisance.

The general rang the bell, and Monsieur Barb.i.+.c.he's friend took his leave.

"Thank G.o.d!" piously exclaimed the general. "I had him there; Haggard is the bigger and more powerful man, of that there is no doubt. It shall not be my fault if they don't settle their differences with the longest and heaviest pair of regulation sabres to be had in Rome for love or money. It's quite against the rule, you know, but you say our man is good at single-stick, so he may have the luck to smash him or cut him down before the Frenchman spits him, as he is bound to do if he gets the chance. And I'll tell you what it is, my lord, I'll take a gla.s.s of curacao, for I'm dry with talking."

The curacao was duly brought, and certainly the general deserved it. The experienced warrior had perceived that De Kerguel was bent on mischief, and by his own coyness he had succeeded in beguiling the Frenchman into accepting a weapon of the use of which his princ.i.p.al was probably totally ignorant. The men would then theoretically meet on an equality.

But a cavalry sabre is a big and comparatively awkward weapon, and supposing that both were equally unskilled in its use, Haggard, as the taller and stronger man, would certainly have the advantage. Besides this the old general meant it, when he had stated his design to provide a specially heavy pair of weapons.

In his great anxiety to secure a meeting at any price, De Kerguel had been compelled to accept the general's ultimatum with regard to weapons, "these or none;" but he knew that his princ.i.p.al thirsted for blood, so he gave way, and it seemed to him at the time that the trifling matter of providing the weapons was of little moment. But ere he reached his friend's hotel he felt that he had been caught napping.

Barb.i.+.c.he was extended upon a couch. A huge piece of black court plaister hid the wound on his swollen lip, a cup of _tisane_ stood upon the table. He was dabbing his forehead with toilet vinegar. His head was bound with a scarlet and yellow silk handkerchief which he wore after the manner of a nightcap, as is the custom of his country. As his friend entered he sprang to his feet.

"Have you arranged it, De Kerguel? Will he meet me, or are these Englishmen brave only with their fists?"

"Do not excite yourself, Emile; you will have need of all your skill, of all your courage."

"He will come, then, this protector of the _demi-monde_, this model moral English husband. Say, is it sword or pistols, De Kerguel?"

"Ah! my poor Barb.i.+.c.he, I fear that I have, as our American friends say, 'given you away.'"

"You don't mean to say that the coward has apologized? This was no case for an apology, De Kerguel, as you know."

"I wish it had been," said his friend; "unfortunately you are to fight."

Barb.i.+.c.he instantly threw himself into a Napoleonic att.i.tude. Under such circ.u.mstances a Frenchman always feels himself a hero, and invariably unconsciously a.s.sumes the favourite pose of the Little Corporal.

"Yes, you are to fight, my poor friend, but with cavalry sabres."

Barb.i.+.c.he suddenly buried his face in his hands, and exclaimed in a broken voice, "Oh, my mother!"

When a Frenchman is in a very deep hole indeed, he always apostrophizes his mother; on ordinary occasions he thinks little enough about her.

"Kerguel," he cried at length, looking up reproachfully at his friend, "you must have been mad. The sabre, as you know, is only used among cavalry officers; the pistol or the small-sword are the arms of gentlemen."

"And also of journalists, my friend. Of that the _ruse_ old general, our man's friend, was unfortunately too well aware. You had tied me down too tightly, my Barb.i.+.c.he; my instructions were to obtain a meeting at any price. It was the choice of Hobson, that or none."

Barb.i.+.c.he placed his hand to his swollen lip.

"And you were right, my friend. Let us embrace."

They did so with effusion.

De Kerguel explained all the arrangements to his princ.i.p.al. Then they drove to the nearest cavalry barrack, where they had acquaintances; and that excellent fencer, Monsieur Barb.i.+.c.he, received an hour's lesson in the use of the sabre from the _maitre d'armes_. But he found the weapon unwieldy, and he returned to his hotel a sadder man than he left it.

Old General Pepper ate his lunch with considerable relish. He was sick and tired of Rome, its churches, its ruins, and its priests. He longed, with an ardent longing, for that paradise of retired military men, "the sweet shady side of Pall Mall;" he longed, too, for the whist tables at the Pandemonium, and his so-called friends at that establishment. He felt that if he only got safely across the frontier he would be one of the lions of the season; for he was certain that the business he was bent upon that afternoon would be no child's play. He himself was no particular friend of Haggard's; but he was proud of having done his best for his man. "After all," said he to himself, "it's six of one, and half-a-dozen of the other. It's lucky for Haggard that Spunyarn sent for me, or that cursed Frenchman would have had his life to a certainty, for the friend meant fighting; I could see it in his eye."

Such thoughts as these pa.s.sed through the worthy officer's mind as he carefully packed his portmanteau. Then he paid his bill. "Now," he soliloquized, "this is what I call being sacrificed. Of one of these fellows I know absolutely nothing, and precious little of the other. But in the cause of honour I shall probably have to run half across Europe, and the worst of it is, at my own expense."

Then the general started out to secure the longest and heaviest pair of cavalry sabres he could find in Rome.

Haggard was equally active. He informed his wife and her cousin that they must leave Rome at once; the convenient excuse of an outbreak of cholera in the city was a sufficiently valid one for the ladies. By two o'clock Mrs. Haggard and Lucy, their maid Hephzibah, and Haggard's useful and polyglot valet, a Swiss, named Capt, were _en route_ for Geneva.

"Business, my dear, will detain me here till over to-morrow," said Haggard, as he embraced his pretty wife upon the platform; "but, please G.o.d, I shall see you then." Perhaps his voice faltered a little, as the possibility flashed through his mind that perchance, in this world, he might never gaze again into those loving, trustful eyes. One more kiss at the carriage-window and the train started, for even Italian trains must start at last. Haggard stood gazing after the disappearing carriages. Then he lit a big cigar and went back to his hotel. Then, as a good man of business, he made his will. It was short and to the point. He left everything he had in the world to his dear wife, Georgina Haggard. He rang for a couple of waiters, who duly witnessed it. And then from his pocket-book he took a little packet of tissue-paper. In it was a magnificent lock of hair. Alas, its colour was other than the deep chestnut bronze of Georgie Haggard's. He twined it round his finger, smoothing its glossy threads, and then he carefully dropped it into the hottest part of the wood fire which smouldered on the hearth. It curled and twisted in the embers as if it had been a living thing; a puff of smoke, a pungent odour, and it was gone. Haggard flung himself upon the sofa, and then he slept the dreamless sleep of a little child.

Punctually as the clock struck five, Monsieur Barb.i.+.c.he's faultless brougham and high-stepping horse drew up at the old mill, the only building which remained of the ancient village of St. Stefano. The place was well chosen. There was not a soul about. Barb.i.+.c.he, his face still very pale, dressed in spotless black, in his b.u.t.ton-hole the red ribbon, so dear to every Frenchman's heart, and accompanied by his friend De Kerguel, stepped out. They were followed by a little dried-up Italian army surgeon, who carried under his arm an ominous-looking black case. They made for the miller's orchard at once.

They were not destined to be kept in suspense, for Haggard and his party had preceded them. All three Englishmen, Haggard, the general and Lord Spunyarn, were attired in ordinary walking dress; the general and Spunyarn advanced to meet De Kerguel. Barb.i.+.c.he and the surgeon remained a little apart.

"Gentlemen," said De Kerguel, as he courteously raised his hat, "we owe you an apology."

General Pepper's ruddy face a.s.sumed a purple hue. "Did these fellows mean to cry off after all?" But he was soon rea.s.sured.

"We have thought it better," said the Frenchman with a smile, "to avoid mixing up any one else in this unfortunate affair. Hence, gentlemen, we have dispensed with the usual second _temoin_. Dr. Battista, of the Papal Zouaves, is present. We had better perhaps lose no time."

"Be good enough," said the general, "to look at these." And from under his blue military cloak, which lay upon the ground, he drew a pair of regulation sabres, perhaps a little exceeding the ordinary length. They were heavy, murderous-looking weapons.

"I cannot object, gentlemen," said the Frenchman, as he carefully measured them and weighed them in either hand. "But----" here he eloquently shrugged his shoulders.

The expectant adversaries lost no time. They divested themselves of their coats and vests, and, bare-headed, each advanced to receive his weapon.

The general traced two lines on the dusty earth, about eight feet apart.

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The Pit Town Coronet Volume I Part 12 summary

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