But there was the mishap in the marsh. Deuced unfortunate thing, you know. It wouldn’t have mattered if it had been himself, and he had dived in after her; but for this impertinent fellow to be on the marsh, and run and jump in after Miss Gernon, it was too bad, you know – a deal too bad – and he couldn’t stand much more of it.
“Horsewhip him!” said Sir Murray, with a fierce snarl, when, after a good deal of circumlocution, his lordship complained of the coolness of his intended, and her frequent encounters with Brace Norton.
“But – a – a don’t you think – wouldn’t it be better if you spoke to her upon the subject – forbade her, you know, to see him any more?” said his lordship.
“Horsewhip him, I tell you!” snarled Sir Murray. “Or, would your lordship like to wake up some morning to the fact that she had disgraced us by a foolish escapade – gone off, for instance, with this vagabond?” said Sir Murray, fiercely.
“No! By Jove, no!” exclaimed the Viscount, turning pale at the very thought, and suffering from incipient symptoms of Braham on the brain.
“Because,” said Sir Murray, giving an involuntary shudder, as he thought of the past – “because any anger on my part, any undue influence, would militate against your prospects – drive her, as it were, into the scoundrel’s arms!”
“Don’t put it in that light, please,” said his lordship, faintly.
“You are young, strong, and active,” continued Sir Murray. “Pay more attention to her; and, as for this man, if he will not take notice of the letter I have sent him, horsewhip him – shoot him, if needs be; for he is a cowardly hound, the son of a coward father!”
Sir Murray Gernon’s eyes flashed, and his dark face grew darker, as he angrily hissed the latter words, before turning with clenched teeth, and walking up and down hastily.
“Think he is?” said the Viscount, in a low voice.
“Think!” echoed the baronet, with a world of scorn in his utterance of that one word.
“I won’t stand any more of his nonsense, then!” exclaimed his lordship, nodding very fiercely. “It’s quite time it was stopped, and I’ll stop it!”
Sir Murray gave him a short, sharp look – half assent, half contempt – and then turned upon his heel, leaving his proposed son-in-law alone.
“What a savage bear he grows!” muttered his lordship, as soon as he was alone; but the next instant his harsh opinion was softened down by the recollection of Sir Murray’s wealth; and he stood gazing for an instant from the open window over the lake at the line stretch of park land, with its noble timber, and recalled the last quiet conversation he had had with the baronet, when he was requested – in words which told most plainly of the owners intentions – not to cut down any of the timber, nor yet to drain the lake.
Five minutes after, his lordship walked into the drawing-rooms, and went through the whole suite, expecting every moment to see Isa reading on some lounge; but she was not there. He then walked into the breakfast and dining-rooms, the conservatory, and Lady Gernon’s boudoir, ending by taking a turn in the garden; but Isa was still invisible.
“Seen Miss Gernon?” he said at last to the major-domo, whom he encountered in the hall.
“Me young lady went oot for her morning ride a gude half-hoor ago, my lord,” said McCray; when, taking a hunting-crop from a stand close by, his lordship walked hurriedly away.
“Jenny, my gude lassie,” said the old Scot, as he entered the housekeeper’s room some five minutes after, when returning from watching his lordship across the lawn – “Jenny, my gude lassie, here’s the auld coorse of true love rinning rougher than iver, and our wee pet bairn, I fear, going to be made unhappy. The ways of the world are very crooked, and I canna help thinking it wondrous strange that young Norton should be thrown in our darling’s way as he is. I’m pitying him, too, lassie, for he’s a bra’e lad, and my heart wairmed to him for the way he saved the child; and he puts me in mind, too, of ane Alexander McCray twenty year agane, whose heart was sair as this laddie’s is, I ken. But it all came reet for mine, Jenny. Will it come reet for the Nortons’ boy?”
The housekeeper shook her head.
“What’s to be done, lassie?”
“Nothing,” said Jane his wife, quietly, but with a sad look; “these things are beyond us, McCray, and must take their course.”
“I’ll put a stop to it, that I will!” muttered Lord Maudlaine, as he strode off across the lawn, and disappeared from McCray’s sight. “Only let me see him hanging after her again!”
If his lordship’s wish to see Brace Norton with Isa Gernon again were genuine, his gratification was quick in coming; for, at the end of half an hour’s sharp walk, he caught sight of Isa and Brace almost at the same moment – just; in fact, as the latter hurried up, so as to reach the young girl before his favoured rival.
“Shall I horsewhip him before her, or shall I wait till he comes away?” muttered his lordship. “He didn’t take any notice of what I said last time, though I half thought that I should have heard from him.”
His lordship stood irresolute for a few moments, but the way in which Brace was received forced him into action, and he strode past the groom, who stood at a respectful distance, and up to the pair.
“Look here, you!” he exclaimed to Brace, coarsely. “This sort of thing won’t do! You’ve been told that you’re not to follow Miss Gernon about. Do you hear?”
“Isa,” said Brace, in a whisper to the trembling girl, “will you ride on?”
“No,” she answered, in the same tone, as she bent down towards him. “Please – my first request – for my sake, Mr Norton, do not let there be any quarrel.”
“I will do my best to avoid it,” said Brace, with a quiet, re-assuring smile; when, apparently enraged by the understanding which appeared to exist, but really nerved thereto by the words let fall that morning by Sir Murray, Lord Maudlaine strode fiercely in front of Brace, who, however, stood coolly and unflinchingly before him.
“Look here!” exclaimed his lordship. “Once more I say this sort of thing won’t do! Are you listening to what I say?”
“Yes,” said Brace, quietly. “I am listening.”
“Then, look here: you’ve been warned times enough, and I shall put up with no more of it! Now go; and I warn you that if ever again you dare to speak to Miss Gernon, or to intrude upon her with your insolent attentions, I’ll – I’ll – I’ll horsewhip you!”
These last words seemed to be forced from him by an effort; when, pale with anger at being so addressed in the presence of Isa, Brace took a step towards the Viscount, with his fists clenched, and his teeth set upon his upper lip. But at that instant, when a collision seemed imminent, an ejaculation of fear took Brace again to Isa’s side.
“Do not be afraid,” he whispered, with the anger fading out of his countenance. “Forgive me for my thoughtless passion.” He laid his hand upon hers, pressing it upon the pommel of the saddle, as he gazed up in her face. “This is rather hard to bear; but I will try.”
“Confound you! are words of no use whatever?” exclaimed his lordship angrily. And at the same moment the hunting-crop was raised, whistled through the air, and descended heavily upon Brace Norton’s shoulders, causing him to start as if stung by some venomous reptile.
That which followed seemed to take place in an instant, for as Lord Maudlaine’s hand was raised to repeat the blow, something darted through the air, striking him full upon the cheek, and he rolled over in the dusty road, felled by a blow that would have shaken the equanimity of a bullock.
“You dog – you cowardly miscreant!” hissed Brace between his teeth, as, beside himself with passion, he stood with clenched fists over his fallen adversary, till, recalling his promise, he once more hurried to the side of the trembling girl.
“I forgot myself,” he exclaimed, hastily; “I thought that I had more self-control.” Then seeing the working features and agitation the fracas had caused, he added, hastily: “Dear Isa, I know I deserve your anger – your contempt; but I have only one excuse to offer: it was something new to me, and evoked passion of whose existence I was in ignorance.”
Isa could not speak; but as she listened to his pleading words, poor girl! – perhaps she was very weak and foolish – she thought that she had never seen Brace Norton look so brave and handsome before, and her eyes betokened more love than anger as they returned the young man’s gaze.
Meanwhile, foaming with rage, and covered with the chalky dust in which he had involuntarily rolled, Lord Maudlaine stood, looking anything but a hero, as the dismounted groom grinned to himself and dusted his master’s guest, rubbing him down with a gorgeous orange-and-white silk handkerchief, all hot from out of his livery; but polishing away, and accompanying the task with the hissing noise generally accorded to horses.
His lordship did not speak, but turned his back upon the group; and but for sundry recollections of his embarrassments which at the present moment intruded themselves painfully upon him, it is most probable that my lord the Viscount and prospective Earl and peer of the realm, would have hurriedly taken his departure from the neighbourhood of Merland. As it was, he submitted to the cleansing process so liberally bestowed upon him by the groom. Then, holding his handkerchief to his cheek, he turned to face Norton, to find that he was already a hundred yards off, walking by the side of Isa’s mare; and soon after they disappeared at a turn of the road.
“Curse him!” exclaimed his lordship, with a fierce and bitter imprecation.
“Ketched yer unaweers, my lord, didn’t he?” said the groom, who, with his bridle over his arm, still kept up his hissing and rubbing process. “If you’d ha’ throwed up your left arm sharp, my lord, and then let go with your right, I don’t know but what you might ha stopped him, and planted one for yourself. But per’aps, arter all, it was very doubtful, for that was as sharp a cutter as ever I did see.”
His lordship did not seem to heed the friendly counsel, for, turning upon his heel, he strode hastily away in the opposite direction to that taken by Isa Gernon, muttering angrily, and evidently smarting with pain.
“I’m blest if I don’t think,” muttered Peter, the groom, as he slowly inducted a foot to its stirrup, and then lazily threw a leg over the horse’s back, and began to put on his gloves – “I’m blest if I don’t think as the higher yer gets up in serciety, the shabbier yer grows. Now, if that ’ere had been, say, a working man, or a lab’rer, and I’d set him upon his pins, and rubbed him down, he’d per’aps not ha’ said, ‘Here’s the price of a pint, mate,’ but he’d ha’ stood a pint, safe; and if it had been a plain gent, such as that young Squire Norton, he’d ha’ give a shilling, per’aps ’arf a crown, or one o’ them duffing two-bob bits; but as for my fine lord here, he don’t so much as say thanky, let alone show you the colour of his money; while, getting up higher still, if it had been a Juke, blow me if I don’t think he’d ha’ kicked me for what I did. Well, just as they like, and it’s all one a hundred years to come. All I can say, though, is, as it served his grand lordship jolly well right, and it was as neat and prettily-planted a blow as ever I did see put in. One – two! one – two! one – two! that was about it,” he continued; as, tucking his whip under his saddle-flap, and laying the reins upon the pommel, he began to square with his fists in imitation of the blow he had seen delivered. “He’s learned the noble art of self-defence, safe. One – two! one – two! one – two! Hold up, will yer!” he shouted, for in his excitement he had rammed one spur against his horse’s side, and the poor animal had plunged sharply so as to nearly unseat his rider, who now gathered up his reins, and cantered after his mistress.
He had not ridden far before he came upon Brace Norton, apparently watching for him, in the middle of the road, and ready to slip a crown-piece into his hand.
“I think, my man,” said Brace, quietly, “that it would be as well if the little unpleasantly you saw between Lord Maudlaine and me were not talked about up there at the Castle.”
“Dumb as a jockey, sir,” said the groom, striking himself over the mouth as he spoke; “but – you won’t be affronted, sir?”
“Affronted! – no. What is it?” said Brace, smiling.
“If you’d – if you’d take that crown back, sir – ” hesitated the man.
“Take it back? Nonsense! Keep it, my lad.”
“And just show me how to give that blow, sir. ’Pon my word, sir, I’d rather know that than have half-a-dozen crowns. I never did see such a settler!”
Brace laughed, and strode on hurriedly, shaking his head.
“Ride on, my man,” he said. “Your mistress is a long way ahead.”
“That’s true enough,” said the groom to himself, as he looked after the retiring figure; “but he put him down just like a sack o’ chaff, that he did; and my lord didn’t like it, neither. I’m blest!” he exclaimed, slapping his thigh, and checking his horse suddenly. “Don’t say nothing up at the Castle, which I won’t; but if there don’t come coffee and pistols out of this job, I’m a Dutchman!”
Magnanimity
“Lord Maudlaine presents his compliments to Lieutenant Norton, and begs to say, that although Lieutenant Norton’s behaviour has been such that the meeting in such cases necessitated by wounded honour may seem absolutely imperative, yet, feeling compassion for his youth and inexperience, Lord Maudlaine is willing to forego the customary arrangement on one condition – namely, that Lieutenant Norton immediately quit Merland, and in no way, previous to his departure, trespass against the wishes of Sir Murray Gernon.”
“He will understand that,” said his lordship, who, after many hours of sheer hard work, contrived the above magnanimous epistle, and despatched it by a special messenger to Merland Hall, where it was read by Brace, with a quiet, scornful smile.
“When a man’s fate leads him in one direction,” he muttered, “it takes something stronger than such a letter as that to turn him out of the way.”
The result was that Brace tore up the letter with an impatient “pish!” and cast the fragments away, Lord Maudlaine the while nervously looking for the reply that did not come, even when two days had elapsed, during which time both Sir Murray and he learned that Isa had been seen twice with Brace Norton, and the former angrily asked him how much longer he intended “that boy” to stand in his way.
“I should have thought,” said his lordship, sulkily, “that I might have counted upon your help, and that you would, at least, have ordered Miss Gernon to confine herself to the house.”
“Did I not give you my reasons,” said Sir Murray, angrily. “Any coercion on my part would be snatched at by this Norton as an occasion for persuading the silly child to fly with him. I had more faith in you, Maudlaine; I thought that you would have striven harder to undermine his influence, instead of which, you turned tail in her presence – he struck you! I saw it all!”
“I struck him first,” said his lordship, sulkily.
“Look here, Maudlaine,” said Sir Murray, haughtily, “when I was a young man such an insult would have been followed by something more than words. You will stand and have her stolen from you.”
“Perhaps this will go further yet,” exclaimed the Viscount, firing up; for the thought of losing the prize he had looked upon as gained stung him to the quick, and without another word he hurried from the room, leaving Sir Murray thoughtful and frowning as he recalled the past. At times, though, his face softened, as the remembrance of Isa’s gentle features crossed his imagination, and he dwelt for awhile upon her resemblance to her mother; but soon morose and bitter feelings prevailed, and for no reason, save that it seemed an eligible match, with a title, to which the name of Gernon would be allied, he cast aside all thoughts of affection as childish, and determined to take some steps himself for assisting his proposed son-in-law in his pretensions.
McCray Scents Mischief
On leaving Sir Murray Gernon, the energy which Lord Maudlaine had displayed seemed to disappear, and he entered his own room, pale and drawn of countenance. His hand, too, trembled, as, taking up a small silver flask which lay upon a side-table, he drained it to the last drop.
The brandy seemed to supply him with the nerve he required; and with a renewed energy, that wore something of the air of desperation, he opened a drawer in the bottom of his dressing-case, and took from it a pair of small, handsomely-mounted pistols. But his hands trembled as he turned them over and over, and the hue of his countenance became more and more sallow, while dark lines showed themselves beneath his eyes.
For strange thoughts were intruding themselves upon his mind, and it seemed to him that unless Brace Norton were out of his way he might just as well apply one of those pistols to his own forehead, and draw the trigger. This was not Italy, where he had first made the acquaintance of the Gernons, or how easily he might have been rid of his rival. But rid of him he must be, or ruin stared him in the face. Gambling and betting had taken his last shilling, and now, supplied with cash for the prosecution of his matrimonial project by one of the money-lending fraternity, he knew what his fate must be should he fail. Confound this Norton! – he was always starting up in his path; and he knew in his heart that he was afraid of him; and, but for the recollection of the fierce blow dealt him – a blow whose smart he still seemed to feel – the Viscount dared not have prosecuted the intent for which he was now preparing.
The age of duelling was long past, and he gave Brace Norton the credit for sending a note of challenge to the police, the result probably being a summons before the bench of magistrates at Marshton, and his being bound over to keep the peace towards Brace Norton and all her Majesty’s liege servants. So, in accordance with the plan he had laid down, he proceeded to carefully load both pistols: powder and bullet, cap, and one was ready; powder, wad, cap, and another was ready; and then – perhaps by accident – his lordship took up a pen, dipped it in the silver inkstand close by, and let it fall, so that one pistol-butt was slightly marked with the black fluid. Then he sat, pen in hand, thoughtful and silent for some time, but he did not write; and at last, still very pale and anxious of mien, he took up the pistols, sounded the barrels one by one with the ramrods, and then placed one in each pocket of his coat, and slowly left the room, encountering, as he did so, the quiet, thoughtful countenance of shrewd old Sandy McCray, who watched him out into the pleasure-grounds, and then, having seen that his lordship’s valet was in the housekeeper’s room, walked swiftly up-stairs, and into the bed-room the Viscount had just vacated.
“He’s been writing, seemingly,” said the old Scot; “but he looked woondrous bad. But what ha’e we here, spillit a’ ower the table-cover? Gude presairve us! if it isn’t poother; and whaat would he be wanting with poother?”
Sandy McCray’s pondering was arrested by the sight of the dressing-case drawer partly opened; and pulling it out, and gazing within it for a few moments, he hurriedly closed it again, and hastened down-stairs, and out into the stable yard, where he was not long before he found Peter, his young lady’s groom. Peter had coat and vest off, his braces tied round his waist, and his shirt sleeves rolled-up to the elbows, squaring away at a corn-sack stuffed full of hay, and stood up on a bin in the large stable.
“One, two – one, two!” he kept on repeating; and, after a slight feint each time, he delivered a most tremendous blow, at the height of a man’s face, right in the tightly-stuffed sack. “One, two, thud – one, two, thud!” went the blows, as the active little fellow sparred away, perspiring profusely the while, till he became aware of the old major-domo’s presence, when he stopped short, abashed.
“So ye’re practising boxing, my lad, air ye? Gude-sake! gi’e up that, and lairne to wrastle and throw the caber and put the stane. But leuke here, my laddie: does it ever happen that my young leddy meets Mr Norton when she’s oot? There – there, I dinna wush ye to betray ony one, laddie; but ye lo’e her weel, like we all do, and I hae a soospeeshun that a’ isn’t reet. Noo, I’ve been a gude friend to ye always, Peter, and eef there’s iver been anything wrang, I’ve been like Sir Murray himsel’ to all ye sairvants, and paid yer wage, and seen ye raised, and that no ane put upon ye; so now tell me, like a gude laddie, has there been any clishmaclaver with Maister Norton and my laird here?”
Peter nodded shortly.
“Gude lad; it’s for the gude of all I ask ye, sae tell me all. Did they come to blows?”
“Lordship hit Mr Norton with his whip,” said Peter.
“Weel, laddie?” said McCray, for the groom paused.
“Mr Norton turns round like a shot; and ‘one, two’ – that’s the blow; and my lord goes over just like that sack – that’s the cut, sir!”
As he spoke, the groom rushed at the sack, and with one of his vigorous blows struck it right from the corn-bin to the ground.
“Gude, lad – gude, lad, and weel planted!” said McCray. “But noo, keep yer ain counsel, and put on yer duds, and come wi’ me.” Then, slowly making his way from the stable, McCray muttered: “And that accoonts for the poother.”
The Meeting
When, pale and thoughtful, Lord Maudlaine strode across the lawn, his mind was agitated strangely by the feelings that oppressed him. He felt that matters had arrived at a pitch when, if he did not make some vigorous effort, he would lose even the partisanship of Sir Murray Gernon. The baronet’s language, and his dislike for the Norton family, were sufficient to insure his protection and favour, let what might befall; and with something of his old gamblers feelings, when about to make some grand coup, or when he was backing largely some horse in a desperate venture, he pressed on.
But his heart told him that never had he attempted so great a stroke as he meditated now.
He was in no wise surprised when, half an hour after, he met Isa returning from a ride, ready to answer his bow with a slight inclination of her head; but he was not weak enough to imagine that, when he turned and saw her looking back, it was for any other reason than to see the direction he would take.
Old experience told him what to do, if he wished to encounter Brace Norton; and taking a short cut, he found, as he expected, that the young man was sauntering along the lane in front; so that the Viscount had but to leap a gate, and wait a few minutes for his rival to come, slowly and thoughtfully, up to where he stood; when Brace gave quite a start, and then stopped short.
Lord Maudlaine said nothing, but stood, for a moment, deadly pale, and hesitating. On one side there were ruin, exile, and bodily safety; on the other, wealth, position, and a beautiful wife. But there were also risk and treachery. He paused for awhile, and then nerved himself for the desperate plunge.
Laying his hand upon his cheek, still slightly discoloured, he then touched his pockets in a meaning way; one well understood by Brace, who followed him without a word, until they had crossed a couple of fields, and leaping a ditch, entered a copse, where – an open glade, suitable to their purpose, being reached – the Viscount stopped. Then, for the first time, Brace spoke:
“I have followed you, my lord, lest you should think I fear you; but, let me ask, have you well considered the step you are about to take? Of course, those are pistols you have with you; but without seconds – without a medical man present, people will be ungenerous enough to say that the survivor is a murderer. I am willing to meet you, if such an encounter must take place; but I must say it ought to be deferred.”
“He is afraid!” thought his lordship; and, speaking hoarsely, he said: “I give you still the option of withdrawal on the terms I named.”
Brace laughed scornfully.
“Then take your weapon,” said the Viscount, whose pallor was now fearful. “They are both loaded, and we can easily pace the ground.”
Brace frowned as he advanced and took the pistol nearest to him, glancing down at it for a moment to see that it was capped, then drawing out the ramrod, he thrust it into the barrel to feel for the bullet.
