Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
"You
do, sir."
"To
Mr. Henry?"
"The
same, sir."
"Have
you reflected upon the probable consequences of such an act, should any serious
mischief occur?"
"What
I have undertaken, Mr. Marchdale, I will go through with; the consequences I
have duly considered, and yet you see me in the character of Mr. Henry
Bannerworth's friend."
"I
am happy to see you as such, and I do not think Henry could find a better. But
this is beside the question. What induced me to make the remark was this,—had I
been at the hall, you will admit that Henry Bannerworth would have chosen
myself, without any disparagement to you, Mr. Chillingworth."
"Well
sir, what then?"
"Why
I am a single man, I can live, reside and go any where; one country will suit
me as well as another. I shall suffer no loss, but as for you, you will be
ruined in every particular; for if you go in the character of a second, you
will not be excused; for all the penalties incurred your profession of a surgeon
will not excuse you."
"I
see all that, sir."
"What
I propose is, that you should accompany the parties to the field, but in your
own proper character of surgeon, and permit me to take that of second to Mr.
Bannerworth."
"This
cannot be done, unless by Mr. Henry Bannerworth's consent," said Mr.
Chillingworth.
"Then
I will accompany you to Bannerworth Hall, and see Mr. Henry, whom I will
request to permit me to do what I have mentioned to you."
Mr.
Chillingworth could not but admit the reasonableness of this proposal, and it
was agreed they should return to Bannerworth Hall in company.
Here
they arrived in a very short time after, and entered together.
"And
now," said Mr. Chillingworth, "I will go and bring our two
principals, who will be as much astonished to find themselves engaged in the
same quarrel, as I was to find myself sent on a similar errand to Sir Francis
with our friend Mr. John Pringle."
"Oh,
not John—Jack Pringle, you mean," said that individual.
Chillingworth
now went in search of Henry, and sent him to the apartment where Mr. Marchdale
was with Jack Pringle, and then he found the admiral waiting the return of Jack
with impatience.
"Admiral!"
he said, "I perceive you are unwell this morning."
"Unwell
be d——d," said the admiral, starting up with surprise. "Who ever
heard that old admiral Bell looked ill just afore he was going into action? I
say it's a scandalous lie."
"Admiral,
admiral, I didn't say you were ill; only you looked ill—a—a little nervous, or
so. Rather pale, eh? Is it not so?"
"Confound
you, do you think I want to be physicked? I tell you, I have not a little but a
great inclination to give you a good keelhauling. I don't want a doctor just
yet."
"But
it may not be so long, you know, admiral; but there is Jack Pringle a-waiting you
below. Will you go to him? There is a particular reason; he has something to
communicate from Sir Francis Varney, I believe."
The
admiral gave a look of some amazement at Mr. Chillingworth, and then he said,
muttering to himself,—
"If
Jack Pringle should have betrayed me—but, no; he could not do that, he is too
true. I'm sure of Jack; and how did that son of a gallipot hint about the odd
fish I sent Jack to?"
Filled
with a dubious kind of belief which he had about something he had heard of Jack
Pringle, he entered the room, where he met Marchdale, Jack Pringle, and Henry
Bannerworth. Immediately afterwards, Mr. Chillingworth entered the apartment.
"I
have," said he, "been to Sir Francis Varney, and there had an
interview with him, and with Mr. Pringle; when I found we were both intent upon
the same object, namely, an encounter with the knight by our principals."
"Eh?"
said the admiral.
"What!"
exclaimed Henry; "had he challenged you, admiral?"
"Challenged
me!" exclaimed Admiral Bell, with a round oath. "I—however—since it
comes to this, I must admit I challenged him."
"That's
what I did," said Henry Bannerworth, after a moment's thought; "and I
perceive we have both fallen into the same line of conduct."
"That
is the fact," said Mr. Chillingworth. "Both Mr. Pringle and I went
there to settle the preliminaries, and we found an insurmountable bar to any
meeting taking place at all."
"He
wouldn't fight, then?" exclaimed Henry. "I see it all now."
"Not
fight!" said Admiral Bell, with a sort of melancholy disappointment.
"D—n the cowardly rascal! Tell me, Jack Pringle, what did the long
horse-marine-looking slab say to it? He told me he would fight. Why he ought to
be made to stand sentry over the wind."
"You
challenged him in person, too, I suppose?" said Henry.
"Yes,
confound him! I went there last night."
"And
I too."
"It
seems to me," said Marchdale, "that this affair has been not
indiscretely conducted; but somewhat unusually and strangely, to say the least
of it."
"You
see," said Chillingworth, "Sir Francis was willing to fight both
Henry and the admiral, as he told us."
"Yes,"
said Jack; "he told us he would fight us both, if so be as his light was
not doused in the first brush."
"That
was all that was wanted," said the admiral.
"We
could expect no more."
"But
then he desired to meet you without any second; but, of course, I would not
accede to this proposal. The responsibility was too great and too unequally
borne by the parties engaged in the rencontre."
"Decidedly,"
said Henry; "but it is unfortunate—very unfortunate."
"Very,"
said the admiral—"very. What a rascally thing it is there ain't another
rogue in the country to keep him in countenance."
"I
thought it was a pity to spoil sport," said Jack Pringle. "It was a
pity a good intention should be spoiled, and I promised the wamphigher that if
as how he would fight, you should second him, and you'd meet him to do
so."
"Eh!
who? I!" exclaimed the admiral in some perplexity.
"Yes;
that is the truth," said Mr. Chillingworth. "Mr Pringle said you
would do so, and he then and there pledged his word that you should meet him on
the ground and second him."
"Yes,"
said Jack "You must do it. I knew you would not spoil sport, and that
there had better be a fight than no fight. I believe you'd sooner see a
scrimmage than none, and so it's all arranged."
"Very
well," said the admiral, "I only wish Mr. Henry Bannerworth had been
his second; I think I was entitled to the first meeting."
"No,"
said Jack, "you warn't, for Mr. Chillingworth was there first; first come
first served, you know."
"Well,
well, I mustn't grumble at another man's luck; mine'll come in turn; but it had
better be so than a disappointment altogether; I'll be second to this Sir
Francis Varney; he shall have fair play, as I'm an admiral; but, d——e he shall fight—yes,
yes, he shall fight."
"And
to this conclusion I would come," said Henry, "I wish him to fight;
now I will take care that he shall not have any opportunity of putting me on
one side quietly."
"There
is one thing," observed Marchdale, "that I wished to propose. After
what has passed, I should not have returned, had I not some presentiment that
something was going forward in which I could be useful to my friend."
"Oh!"
said the admiral, with a huge twist of his countenance.
"What
I was about to say was this,—Mr. Chillingworth has much to lose as he is
situated, and I nothing as I am placed. I am chained down to no spot of earth.
I am above following a profession—my means, I mean, place me above the
necessity. Now, Henry, allow me to be your second in this affair; allow Mr.
Chillingworth to attend in his professional capacity; he may be of service—of
great service to one of the principals; whereas, if he go in any other
capacity, he will inevitably have his own safety to consult."
"That
is most unquestionably true," said Henry, "and, to my mind, the best
plan that can be proposed. What say you, Admiral Bell, will you act with Mr.
Marchdale in this affair?"
"Oh,
I!—Yes—certainly—I don't care. Mr. Marchdale is Mr. Marchdale, I believe, and
that's all I care about. If we quarrel to-day, and have anything to do
to-morrow, in course, to-morrow I can put off my quarrel for next day; it will
keep,—that's all I have to say at present."
"Then
this is a final arrangement?" said Mr. Chillingworth.
"It
is."
"But,
Mr. Bannerworth, in resigning my character of second to Mr. Marchdale, I only
do so because it appears and seems to be the opinion of all present that I can
be much better employed in another capacity."
"Certainly,
Mr. Chillingworth; and I cannot but feel that I am under the same obligations
to you for the readiness and zeal with which you have acted."
"I
have done what I have done," said Chillingworth, "because I believed
it was my duty to do so."
"Mr.
Chillingworth has undoubtedly acted most friendly and efficiently in this
affair," said Marchdale; "and he does not relinquish the part for the
purpose of escaping a friendly deed, but to perform one in which he may act in
a capacity that no one else can."
"That
is true," said the admiral.
"And
now," said Chillingworth, "you are to meet to-morrow morning in the
meadow at the bottom of the valley, half way between here and Sir Francis
Varney's house, at seven o'clock in the morning."
More
conversation passed among them, and it was agreed that they should meet early
the next morning, and that, of course, the affair should be kept a secret.
Marchdale
for that night should remain in the house, and the admiral should appear as if
little or nothing was the matter; and he and Jack Pringle retired, to talk over
in private all the arrangements.
Henry
Bannerworth and Marchdale also retired, and Mr. Chillingworth, after a time,
retired, promising to be with them in time for the meeting next morning.
Much
of that day was spent by Henry Bannerworth in his own apartment, in writing
documents and letters of one kind and another; but at night he had not
finished, for he had been compelled to be about, and in Flora's presence, to
prevent anything from being suspected.
Marchdale
was much with him, and in secret examined the arms, ammunition, and bullets,
and saw all was right for the next morning; and when he had done, he said,—
"Now,
Henry, you must permit me to insist that you take some hours' repose, else you
will scarcely be as you ought to be."
"Very
good," said Henry. "I have just finished, and can take your
advice."
After
many thoughts and reflections, Henry Bannerworth fell into a deep sleep, and
slept several hours in calmness and quietude, and at an early hour he awoke,
and saw Marchdale sitting by him.
"Is
it time, Marchdale? I have not overslept myself, have I?"
"No;
time enough—time enough," said Marchdale. "I should have let you
sleep longer, but I should have awakened you in good time."
It
was now the grey light of morning, and Henry arose and began to prepare for the
encounter. Marchdale stole to Admiral Bell's chamber, but he and Jack Pringle
were ready.
Few
words were spoken, and those few were in a whisper, and the whole party left
the Hall in as noiseless a manner as possible. It was a mild morning, and yet
it was cold at that time of the morning, just as day is beginning to dawn in
the east. There was, however, ample time to reach the rendezvous.
It
was a curious party that which was now proceeding towards the spot appointed
for the duel, the result of which might have so important an effect on the
interests of those who were to be engaged in it.
It
would be difficult for us to analyse the different and conflicting emotions
that filled the breasts of the various individuals composing that party—the
hopes and fears—the doubts and surmises that were given utterance to; though we
are compelled to acknowledge that though to Henry, the character of the man he
was going to meet in mortal fight was of a most ambiguous and undefined nature,
and though no one could imagine the means he might be endowed with for
protection against the arms of man—Henry, as we said, strode firmly forward
with unflinching resolution. His heart was set on recovering the happiness of
his sister, and he would not falter.
So
far, then, we may consider that at length proceedings of a hostile character
were so far clearly and fairly arranged between Henry Bannerworth and that most
mysterious being who certainly, from some cause or another, had betrayed no
inclination to meet an opponent in that manner which is sanctioned, bad as it
is, by the usages of society.
But
whether his motive was one of cowardice or mercy, remained yet to be seen. It
might be that he feared himself receiving some mortal injury, which would at
once put a stop to that preternatural career of existence which he affected to
shudder at, and yet evidently took considerable pains to prolong.