Part 39 (1/2)

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 s.h.i.+rt 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?”

”Lords.h.i.+p 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 acc.o.o.nts for the poother.”

Book 2, Chapter XVI.

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 partisans.h.i.+p 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 lords.h.i.+p; and, speaking hoa.r.s.ely, 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.

”My lord,” he said, ”let me once more appeal to you--to your manly feeling--to ask whether this is necessary. Surely you must be aware that your pretensions are vain, and that even if you disable, or slay me, your presence will be more than ever distasteful. I am cool now, and, forgiving you the blow you struck me, I ask pardon for my pa.s.sionate haste. Let us put aside these deadly weapons, and in her name let me ask you to be generous, to have pity on us both, for it lies in your power!”

Brace ceased, for there was a sneer upon his rival's face that was almost devilish. He had watched Brace's actions, and seen him probe the pistol-barrel, when, apparently satisfied, the young man had let the weapon fall to his side.

”Dog! coward! scoundrel!” exclaimed the Viscount, now half-beside himself with a pa.s.sion that seemed fiendish. ”Once more I give you a chance; give her up for ever, and write what I will dictate, or take your place.”

For answer, Brace Norton's lips moved as he slowly took his place opposite to his adversary, when, with a malignant look of hatred, that could hardly have been expected from a man of his character, Lord Maudlaine smiled triumphantly, as he too examined the cap of his pistol, and then drew the ramrod, to thrust it down the barrel. Then, as if stricken by paralysis, the look of hate and triumph faded from his face, to leave it of a sickly green hue, his jaw fell, his hand trembled visibly, and his knees shook beneath him; for, in spite of his management, Lord Maudlaine was at his opponent's mercy: he had carefully charged one pistol only with ball, and, in his agitation, he had let that weapon pa.s.s into his rival's hand, while his own contained but a blank charge.