'Stephen, my conquering hero,' cried Diana, coming in alone, 'how glad I am to see your phiz at last! Where have you been all these days? Did you not have my note? Sit down, do, and take off your coat. How can you bear this wicked heat? We are beside ourselves with stickiness and vexation, and you look as cool as - how I envy you. Is that your elephant outside? I will have him led into the shade at once - you must never leave an elephant in the sun.' She called a servant, a stupid man who did not understand her directions at once, and her voice rose to a tone that Stephen knew well.
When I saw an elephant coming up the drive,' she 'said, 'smiling again, I thought it was that bore Johnstone, he is always calling Not that he is really a bore - an interesting man, in fact; an American: you would like him - have you ever met an American? - nor had I before this: perfectly civilised, you know; all that about their spitting on the floor is so much stuff - and immensely rich, too - but it is embarrassing, and a source of these perpetual God-damned scenes. how I hate a man that makes scenes, particularly in this weather, when the least exertion brings you out in a muck-sweat. Everybody is furious in this weather. But what made you come on an elephant, Stephen, dressed in a bloom-coloured coat?'
It was clear to a man with far less knowledge of morphology than Stephen possessed that there was nothing under Diana's gown, and he looked out of the window with a light frown: he wished his mind to be perfectly clear.
He said, 'The elephant stands for splendour and confidence. These last weeks, ever since the ship turned back from the Sumatra coast, I have noticed a look of settled and increasing anxiety upon my face. I see it when I shave: I also feel the set of my features, head, neck, shoulders -the expressive parts. From time to time I look and again I verify that it is indeed this expression of an indwelling, undefined, and general apprehension or even dread. I dispel it; I look cheerful and alert, perhaps confident; and in a
few moments it is there again. The elephant is to deal with this. You will remember the last time we met I begged you would do me the honour of marrying me.'
'I do, Stephen,' cried Diana, blushing: he had never seen her blush, and it moved him. 'Indeed I do. But oh why did you not say so long ago - at Dover, say? It might have been different then, before all this.' She took a fan from the table and stood up, flicking it nervously. 'God, how hot it is today,' she said, and her expression changed. 'Why wait till now? Anyone would say I had brought myself so low that you could do something quixotic. Indeed, if I were not so fond of you - and I am fond of you, Maturin: you are a friend I love - I might call it a great impertinence. An affront. No woman of any spirit will put up with an affront. I have not degraded myself.' hcr chin began to pucker; she mastered it and said, 'I have not come down to... 'But in spite of her pride the tears came running fast: she bowed her head on his shoulder, and they ran down his bloom-coloured coat. 'In any case,' she said between her sobs, 'you do not really wish to marry me. You told me yourself, long ago, the hunter does not want the fox.'
'What the devil are you about, sir?' cried Canning from the open door.
'What is that to you, sir?' said Stephen, turning sharp upon him.
'Mrs Villiers is under my protection,' said Canning. He was pale with fury.
'I give no explanations to anyman for kissing a woman, unless it is his wife.'
'Do you not?'
'I do not, sir. And what does your protection amount to? You know very well Mrs Canning will be here in the Hastings on the sixteenth. Where is your protection then? What kind of consideration is this?'
'Is that true, Canning?' cried Diana.
Canning flushed deeply. 'You have been tampering with my papers, Maturin. Your man Atkins has been tampering with my papers.' He stepped forward and in his passion he gave Stephen a furious open-handed blow.
Instantly Diana thrust a table between them and pushed Canning back, crying out, 'Pay no attention, Stephen. He does not mean it - it is the heat - he is drunk - he will apologise. Leave the house at once, Canning. What do you mean by this low vulgar brawling? Are you a groom, a pot-boy? You are ridiculous.'
Stephen stood with his hands behind his back: he, too, was very pale, apart from the red print of Canning's hand.
Canning, at the door, snatched up a chair and beat it on the ground: he wrenched the back apart, flung it down, and ran out.
'Stephen,' said Diana, 'do not notice it. Do not, do not fight him. He will apologise - he will certainly apologise. Oh, do not fight him - promise me. He will apologise.'
'Perhaps he will, my dear,' said Stephen. 'He is in a sad way entirely, poor fellow.' He opened the window. 'I believe I will go out this way, if I may: I do not altogether trust your tigers.'
'Captain Etherege, sir,' he said, 'will you do me a service, now?'
'With all the pleasure in life,' said Etherege, turning his round benevolent face from the scuttle, where he held it in the hope of air.
'Something happened today that caused me uneasiness. I must beg you to call upon Mr Canning and desire him to give me satisfaction for a blow.'
'A blow?' cried Etherege, his face instantly changing to a look of profound concern. 'Oh dear me. No apology in that case, I presume? But did you say Canning? Ain't he a Jew? You don't have to fight a Jew, Doctor. You must not put your life at risk for a Jew. Let a file of Marines tan his unbelieving hide and ram a piece of bacon down his throat, and leave it at that.'
'We see things differently,' said Stephen. 'I have a particular devotion to Our Lady, who was a Jewess, and I cannot feel my race superior to her; besides, I feel for the man; I will fight him with the best will in the world.'
'You do him too much honour,' said Etherege, dissatisfied and upset. 'But you know your own business best, of course. You cannot be expected to stomach a blow. And yet again, having to fight a commercial fellow is like being forced into an unequal match, or having to marry a maid-servant because you have got her with child. Should you not like to fight someone else? Well, I shall have to put on my regimentals. I should not do it for anyone but you, Maturin, not in this damned heat. I hope he can find a second that understands these things, a Christian, that's all.' He went to his cabin, worried and displeased; reappeared in his red coat, already damp with sweat, and putting his head through the door he made a last appeal. 'Are you sure you would not like to fight somebody else? A bystander, say, who saw the blow?'
'It might not have quite the same effect,' said Stephen, shaking his head. 'And Etherege, I may rely upon your discretion, of course?'
'Oh, I know what o'clock it is,' said Etherege crossly. 'As early as possible, I suppose? Will dawn suit?' and Stephen heard him muttering 'Obstinate - don't listen to reason -pig-headed,' as he went down the gangway.
'What is the matter with our lobster?' asked Pullings, coming into the gunroom. 'I have never seen him so hellfire grum. Has he caught the prickly heat?'
'He will be cooler, and more collected, in the evening.'
On his return Etherege was much cooler, and almost satisfied. 'Well, at least he has some respectable friends,' he said. 'I spoke to Colonel Burke, of the Company's service, a very gentlemanlike man, quite the thing, and we agreed on pistols, at twenty paces. I hope that suits?'
'Certainly. I am obliged to you, Etherege.'
'The only thing I have left to do, is to view the ground:
we agreed to meet after the Chief Justice's party, when it will be cooler.'
'Oh, never trouble your kind heart, Etherege; I shall be content with any usual ground.'
Etherege frowned, and said, 'No, no. I do hate any irregularity in affairs of this kind. It is strange enough already, without the seconds not viewing the ground.'
'You are too good. I have prepared you a bowl of iced punch: pray drink off a glass or so.'
'You have been preparing your pistols, too,' said Etherege, nodding at the open case. 'I do recommend corning the powder uncommon fine - but I am not to tell you anything about powder and shot. This is capital punch: I could drink it for ever.'
Stephen walked into the great cabin. 'Jack,' he said, 'it is weeks since we played a note. What do you say to about this evening, if you are not too taken up with your bollards and capstan-bars?'
'Have you come aboard, my plum?' cried Jack, looking up from the bosun's accounts with a beaming face. 'I have such news for you. We are to carry treasure, and the freight will see me clear.'
'What is freight?'
'It means I am clear of debt.'
'That is news indeed. Ha, ha, I give you joy, with all my heart. I am delighted - amazed.'
'I will explain it to you, with figures, the moment my accounts are done. But damn paper-work for today. Had you any particular music in mind?'
'The Boccherini C major, perhaps?'
'Why, that is the strangest thing - the adagio has been running through my head this last hour and more, yet I ain't in the least melancholy. Far from it, ha. ha.' He rosined his bow, and said, 'Stephen, I took your advice. I have written to Sophie, asking her to come out to Madeira. Canning sends it overland.'
Stephen nodded and smiled, hummed the true note and found it on his 'cello. They tuned, nodded, tapped three times, each with his eye fixed on the other's bow, and dashed away into the brilliant, heart-lifting first movement.
On and on, lost in the music, intertwined, a lovely complexity of sound; on through the near-desperation of the adagio, on and on with such fire and attack to the very height and the majestic, triumphant close.
'Lord, Stephen,' said Jack, leaning back and laying his fiddle carefully down, 'we have never played so well.'
'It is a noble piece. I revere that man. Listen, Jack: here are some papers I must confide to you - the usual things. I fight Canning in the morning, alas.'
A dense curtain fell instantly, cutting off all but formal communication between them. After a pause Jack said, 'Who is your second?'
'Etherege.'
'I will come with you. That was why there was all that firing on the quarterdeck, of course. You would not mind it, if I were to have a word with him?'
'Not at all. But he is gone to the Chief justice's: he is to view the ground with a Colonel Burke after the party. Never vex your heart for me, Jack: I am used to these things - more used to them than you, I dare say.'
'Oh, Stephen,' said Jack, 'this is a damned black ending to the sweetest day.'
'This is where we usually settle our affairs, in Calcutta,' said Colonel Burke, leading them across the moonlit Maidan. 'There is the road over the Alipur bridge, do you see, conveniently near at hand; and yet behind these trees it is as discreet and secluded as you could wish.'
'Colonel Burke,' said Jack, 'as I understand it, the offence was not given in public. I believe any expression of regret would meet the case. I have a great esteem for your principal, and I say this out of consideration for him; pray do all you can - my man is deadly.'
Burke gave him a broad stare. 'So is mine,' he said in an offended tone. 'He dropped Harlow like a bird, in Hyde Park. But even if he were not, it would not signify. He don't want pluck, as I know very well; I should not be here, else. Of course, if your man chooses to put with a blow, and turn the other cheek, I have nothing more to say. Blessed are the peacemakers.'
Jack commanded himself; there was little hope of piercing through Burke's deep stupidity, but he went on. 'Canning must certainly have been in wine. The least admission of this - a general expression - will answer. It will be satisfactory, and if need be I shall use my authority to make it so.'
'Confine your man to his quarters, you mean? Well, you have your own ways in the Navy, I see. It would scarcely answer with us. I will carry your message, of course, but I cannot answer for its coming to anything. I have never had a principal more determined to give satisfaction in a regular way. He is a rare plucked 'un.'
In his journal Stephen wrote, 'At most times the diarist may believe he is addressing his future self: but the real height of diary-writing is the gratuitous entry, as this may prove to be. Why should tomorrow's meeting affect me in this way? I have been out many, many times. It is true my hands are not what they were; and in growing older I have lost the deeply illogical but deeply anchored conviction of immortality; but the truth of the matter is that now I have so much to lose. I am to fight Canning: made as we are, it was inevitable, I suppose; but how deeply I regret it. I cannot feel ill-will towards him, and although in his present state of confused passion and shame and disappointment I have no doubt he will try to kill mc, I do not believe he feels any towards me, except as the catalyst of his unhappiness. For my part I shall, sub Deo, nick his arm, no more. Good Mr White would call my sub Deo gross blasphemy and I am tempted to throw down some observations on the matter; but peccavi nimis cogitatione, verbo, et opere - I must find my priest and go quickly to sleep: sleep is the thing, sleep with a quietened mind.'
From this sleep - but a sleep troubled by hurrying, disjointed dreams - Jack woke him at two bells in the morning watch; and as they dressed they heard young Babbington on deck singing Lovely Peggy in a sweet undertone, as cheerful as the rising day.
They came out of the cabin, into the deathly reek lying over the Hooghly and the interminable mud-flats, and at the gangway they found Etherege, M'Alister and Bonden.
Under the peepul-trees on the deserted Maidan a silent group was waiting for them: Canning, two friends, a surgeon, and some men to keep the ground: two closed carriages at a distance. Burke came forward. 'Good morning, Gentlemen,' he said. 'There is no accommodating the affair. Etherege, if you are happy that there is light enough, I think we should place our men; unless, of course, your principal chooses to withdraw.'
Canning was wearing a black coat, and he buttoned it high over his neckcloth. There was light enough now - a fine clear grey - to see him perfectly: perfectly composed, grave and withdrawn; but his face was lined and old, colourless.