The Daltons; Or, Three Roads In Life. Volume II. Lever Charles James
falls, you ‘ll have to make for Lombardy, and cross over into Switzerland; if he shoots me, you can take my passport; it is visé for the Tyrol. As they know me at Innsprück, you ‘d better keep to the southward, – some of the smaller places about Botzen, or Brixen.”
“But I don’t know Bo-Bo-Botzen on the map! and I don’t see why I ‘m to sk-sk-skulk about the Continent like a refu-refu-refugee Pole!”
“Take your own time, then; and, perhaps, ten years in a fortress may make you wiser. It’s no affair of mine, you know; and I merely gave you the advice, as I ‘m a little more up to these things than you are.”
“But, supposing that I ‘ll have no-nothing to do with the matter, that I ‘ll not be present, that I refuse to see – ”
“You shall and you must, sir; and if I hear another word of objection out of your mouth, or if you expose me, by any show of your own poltroonery, to the ribald insolence of these Frenchmen, by Heaven! I ‘ll hold your hand in my own when I fire at Count Trouville.”
“And I may be mu-mu-murdered!” screamed Purvis. “An innocent man’s bl-blood shed, all for nothing!”
“Bluebeard treated his wives to the same penalty for the same crime, Master Purvis. And now listen to me, sir, and mark well my words. With the causes which have led to this affair you have no concern whatever; your only business here is in the capacity of my second. Be present when the pistols are loaded; stand by as they step the ground; and, if you can do no more, try, at least, to look as if you were not going to be shot at.” Neither the counsel nor the tone it was delivered in were very reassuring; and Purvis went along with his head down and his hands in his pockets, reflecting on all the “accidents by firearms” he had read of in the newspapers, together with the more terrible paragraphs about fatal duels, and criminal proceedings against all concerned in them.
The Frenchmen were seated in the garden, at a table, and smoking their cigars, as Norwood came up, and, in a few words, explained that a countryman of his own, whom he had met by chance, would undertake the duties of his friend.
“I have only to say, gentlemen,” he added, “that he has never even witnessed an affair of this kind; and I have but to address myself to the loyal good faith of Frenchmen to supply any deficiencies in his knowledge. Mr. Purvis, Messieurs.”
The old Colonel, having courteously saluted him, took him to a short distance aside, and spoke eagerly for a few minutes; while Norwood, burning with anxiety and uneasiness, tried to smoke his cigar with every semblance of unconcern.
“I ‘m sure, if you think so,” cried Scroope, aloud, “I’m not the m-man to gainsay the opinion. A miss is as g-g-good as a m-mile; and as he did n’t strike him – ”
“Tonnerre de Dieu! sir – strike him!” screamed the old soldier. “Did you say strike him?”
“No, I didn’t – I couldn’t have meant that,” broke in Purvis. “I meant to remark that, as there was no mischief done – ”
“And who will venture to say that, sir?” interposed the other. “Is it nothing that a Frenchman should have been menaced?”
“That’s a gr-great deal, – a tremendous deal. It’s as much as beating another man; I know that,” muttered poor Purvis, deprecatingly.
“Is this a sneer, sir?” asked the Colonel, drawing himself up to his full height.
“No, no, it ain’t; no, upon my soul, I ‘m quite serious. I never was less disposed for a jest in my life.”
“You could never have selected a less opportune moment for one, sir,” rejoined the other, gravely. “Am I to conclude, sir,” resumed he, after a second’s interval, “that we have no difference of opinion on this affair?”
“None whatever. I agree with you in everything you have s-said, and everything you in-intend to say.”
“Your friend will then apologize?” resumed the Colonel.
“He shall, – he must.”
“Simply expressing his regret that an unguarded action should have occasioned a misconception, and that in lifting his arm he neither intended the gesture as a menace nor an insult. Is n’t that your meaning?”
“Just so; and that if he had struck he would n’t have hurt him.”
“Feu d’enfer! sir, what are you saying? or do you mean this for a mockery of us?” screamed the Colonel, in a fit of passion.
“You terrify me so,” cried Purvis; “You are so impeimpe-impetuous, I don’t know what I ‘m saying.”
The Frenchman measured him with a glance of strange meaning. It was evident that such a character was somewhat new to him, and it required all his skill and acuteness to comprehend it “Very well, sir,” said he, at last, “I leave the details entirely to yourself; speak to your friend, arrange the matter between you, and let us finish the affair as speedily as may be.”
“What is all this delay about?” muttered Norwood, angrily, as the other joined him; “is there any difficulty in stepping twelve or twenty paces?”
“None; but we’ve hit upon a b-better plan, and you’ve only to say that you ‘re sorry for it all, that you did n’t m-mean anything, and that you never did b-b-beat a Frenchman, nor will you ever do so in future.”
“Why, what do you mean?” asked Norwood, in astonishment.
“That we ‘ll all go back and lunch at the ‘Luna;’ for there’s no-nothing to fight about.”
Norwood pushed by him contemptuously, and with hurried steps walked up to where the old Colonel stood. “You are a French officer, sir,” said he, “and I rely upon your honor that, whether from the ignorance or inaptitude of that gentleman, no blame may attach itself to me in this business. I have no apology to offer, nor any amende save one.”
“Very well, sir, we are ready,” said the Colonel. “I will ask one of my countrymen to act for you, for I see you are in very indifferent hands.”
And now, like men who were well accustomed to the task, they set about the details of the duel; while Purvis, being at full liberty, slipped from the spot, and retired into the wood.
“You ‘ve won the first fire, my Lord,” said a young Frenchman to Norwood. “The conditions are twelve paces – back to back – to torn at the word, and fire.”
Norwood bowed, and, without speaking, followed the other to the spot where he was to stand. As he waited thus, pistol in hand, he was directly opposite to the place wherein Purvis had taken refuge, and who, seeing Norwood in front of him, with a cocked pistol, and his finger on the trigger, uttered a scream of terror, and fell flat on the ground. Before the rest could discover the cause of the outcry, a shout from outside of “The Police!” “The Gendarmes!” was heard, and Dr. Grounsell rushed into the garden, followed by several dismounted dragoons. In an instant all were away. Norwood sprang over a low balcony into a vineyard; while in various directions the others scampered off, leaving Purvis alone upon the field.
But too happy to have fallen into the safe keeping of the authorities, Purvis accepted his captivity with a most placid contentment.
“Where’s Captain Onslow? Have you seen him, sir?” whispered Grounsell to him.
“I have seen everybody, but I don’t re-remember anything. It’s all a dr-dr-dream to me.”
“There was no duel? They hadn’t fought?” asked Grounsell.
“I – I – I think not; pro-pro-probably not,” said Purvis, whose faculties were still very cloudy.
Grounsell turned away from him in disdain, and entered the house. To all his inquiries from the waiters of the inn the answers were vague and insufficient, nor could the doctor discover either what had occurred, or the reasons of the long delay on the ground. Meanwhile the Carabinieri, stimulated by liberal promises of reward, were searching the park in every quarter, and scouring the country around to arrest the fugitives; and