Part 37 (2/2)
”For he's ruined entirely and no one to play with him!” Asgill continued, a twinkle, which he made no attempt to hide, in his eye. ”No one, I'm meaning, Major, of his sort of force at all! Begad, boys, you'll see some fine fencing for once! Ye'll think ye've never seen any before I'm doubting!”
”I'm not sure that I can remain to-morrow,” Payton said in a surly tone. For he began to suspect that Asgill was quizzing him. He noticed that every time the Justice named Colonel Sullivan, whether he referred to his return, or exalted his prowess, a sensation, a something that was almost a physical stir pa.s.sed round the table. Men looked furtively at one another, or looked straight before them, as if they were in a design. If that were so, the design could only be to pit Colonel Sullivan against him, or in some way to provoke a quarrel between them.
He felt a qualm of distrust and apprehension, for he remembered the words the Colonel had used in reference to their next meeting; and he was confirmed in the plan he had already formed--to be gone next day.
But in the meantime his temper moved him to carry the war into the enemy's country.
”I didn't know,” he snarled, taking Asgill up in the middle of a eulogy of Colonel John's skill, ”that he was so great a favourite of yours.”
”He was not,” Asgill replied drily.
”He is now, it seems!” in the same sneering tone.
”We know him better. Don't we, boys?”
They murmured a.s.sent.
”And the lady whose horse I sheltered for you,” the Major continued, spitefully watching for an opening--”confound you, little you thanked me for it!--she must be still more in his interest than you. And how does that suit your book?”
Asgill had great self-control, and the Major was not, except where his malice was roused, a close observer. But the thrust was so unexpected that on the instant Payton read the other's secret in his eyes--knew that he loved, and knew that he was jealous. Jealous of Sullivan!
Jealous of the man whom he was for some reason praising. Then why not jealous of a younger, a more proper, a more fas.h.i.+onable rival? Asgill's cunningly reared plans began to sink, and even while he answered he knew it.
”She likes him,” he said, ”as we all do.”
”Some more, some less,” Payton answered with a grin.
”Just so,” the Irishman returned, controlling himself. ”Some more, some less. And why not, I'm asking.”
”I think I must stay over to-morrow,” Payton remarked, smiling at the ceiling. ”There must be a good deal to be seen here.”
”Ah, there is,” Asgill answered in apparent good humour.
”Worth seeing, too, I'll be sworn!” the Englishman replied, smiling more broadly.
”And that's true, too!” the other rejoined.
He had himself in hand; and it was not from him that the proposal to break up the party came. The Major it was who at last pleaded fatigue.
Englishmen's heads, he said, were stronger than their stomachs; they were a match for port but not for claret. ”Too much Bordeaux,” he continued, with careless contempt, ”gives me the vapours next day. It's a d--d sour drink, I call it! Here's a health to Methuen and sound Oporto!”
”You should correct it, Major, with a little cognac,” The McMurrough suggested politely.
”Not to-night; and, by your leave, I'll have my man called and go to bed.”
”It's early,” James McMurrough said, playing the host.
”It is, but I'll have my man and go to bed,” Payton answered, with true British obstinacy. ”No offence to any gentleman.”
”There's none will take it here,” Asgill answered. ”An Irishman's house is his guest's castle.” But, knowing that Payton liked his gla.s.s, he wondered; until it occurred to him that the other wished to have his hand steady for the sword-play next day. He meant to stay, then! ”Hang him! Hang him!” he repeated in his mind.
<script>