Part 177 (1/2)
”Scornfully--yes. And,” continued Randal, advancing a step, ”since the supposition has been made, I demand from Lord L'Estrange, as his equal (for all gentlemen are equals where honour is to be defended at the cost of life), either instant retractation--or instant proof.”
”That's the first word you have spoken like a man,” cried the squire. ”I have stood my ground myself for a less cause. I have had a ball through my right shoulder.”
”Your demand is just,” said Harley, unmoved. ”I cannot give the retractation,--I will produce the proof.”
He rose and rang the bell; the servant entered, received his whispered order, and retired. There was a pause painful to all. Randal, however, ran over in his fearful mind what evidence could be brought against him--and foresaw none. The folding doors of the saloon were thrown open and the servant announced--
THE COUNT DI PESCHIERA.
A bombsh.e.l.l, descending through the roof could not have produced a more startling sensation. Erect, bold, with all the imposing effect of his form and bearing, the count strode into the centre of the ring; and after a slight bend of haughty courtesy, which comprehended all present, reared up his lofty head, and looked round, with calm in his eye and a curve on his lip,--the self-a.s.sured, magnificent, high-bred Daredevil.
”Duke di Serrano,” said the count, in English, turning towards his astounded kinsman, and in a voice that, slow, clear, and firm, seemed to fill the room, ”I returned to England on the receipt of a letter from my Lord L'Estrange, and with a view, it is true, of claiming at his hands the satisfaction which men of our birth accord to each other, where affront, from what cause soever, has been given or received. Nay, fair kinswoman,”--and the count, with a slight but grave smile, bowed to Violante, who had uttered a faint cry,--”that intention is abandoned. If I have adopted too lightly the old courtly maxim, that 'all stratagems are fair in love,' I am bound also to yield to my Lord L'Estrange's arguments, that the counter-stratagems must be fair also. And, after all, it becomes me better to laugh at my own sorry figure in defeat, than to confess myself gravely mortified by an ingenuity more successful than my own.” The count paused, and his eye lightened with sinister fire, which ill suited the raillery of his tone and the polished ease of his bearing. ”Ma foi!” he continued, ”it is permitted me to speak thus, since at least I have given proofs of my indifference to danger, and my good fortune when exposed to it. Within the last six years I have had the honour to fight nine duels, and the regret to wound five, and dismiss from the world four, as gallant and worthy gentlemen as ever the sun shone upon.”
”Monster!” faltered the parson.
The squire stared aghast, and mechanically rubbed the shoulder which had been lacerated by Captain Das.h.i.+nore's bullet. Randal's pale face grew yet more pale, and the eye he had fixed upon the count's hardy visage quailed and fell.
”But,” resumed the count, with a graceful wave of the hand, ”I have to thank my Lord L'Estrange for reminding me that a man whose courage is above suspicion is privileged not only to apologize if he has injured another, but to accompany apology with atonement. Duke of Serrano, it is for that purpose that I am here. My Lord, you have signified your wish to ask me some questions of serious import as regards the duke and his daughter; I will answer them without reserve.”
”Monsieur le Comte,” said Harley, ”availing myself of your courtesy, I presume to inquire who informed you that this young lady was a guest under my father's roof?”
”My informant stands yonder,--Mr. Randal Leslie; and I call upon Baron Levy to confirm my statement.”
”It is true,” said the baron, slowly, and as if overmastered by the tone and mien of an imperious chieftain.
There came a low sound like a hiss from Randal's livid lips.
”And was Mr. Leslie acquainted with your project for securing the person and hand of your young kinswoman?”
”Certainly,--and Baron Levy knows it.” The baron bowed a.s.sent. ”Permit me to add--for it is due to a lady nearly related to myself--that it was, as I have since learned, certain erroneous representations made to her by Mr. Leslie which alone induced that lady, after my own arguments had failed, to lend her aid to a project which otherwise she would have condemned as strongly as, Duke di Serrano, I now with unfeigned sincerity do myself condemn it.”
There was about the count, as he thus spoke, so much of that personal dignity which, whether natural or artificial, imposes for the moment upon human judgment,--a dignity so supported by the singular advantages of his superb stature, his handsome countenance, his patrician air,--that the duke, moved by his good heart, extended his hand to the perfidious kinsman, and forgot all the Machiavellian wisdom which should have told him how little a man of the count's hardened profligacy was likely to be influenced by any purer motives, whether to frank confession or to manly repentance. The count took the hand thus extended to him, and bowed his face, perhaps to conceal the smile which would have betrayed his secret soul. Randal still remained mute, and pale as death. His tongue clove to his mouth. He felt that all present were shrinking from his side. At last, with a violent effort, he faltered out, in broken sentences,
”A charge so sudden may well--may well confound me. But--but--who can credit it? Both the law and commonsense pre-suppose some motive for a criminal action; what could be my motive here? I--myself the suitor for the hand of the duke's daughter--I betray her! Absurd--absurd! Duke, Duke, I put it to your own knowledge of mankind whoever goes thus against his own interest--and--and his own heart?”
This appeal, however feebly made, was not without effect on the philosopher. ”That is true,” said the duke, dropping his kinsman's hand; ”I see no motive.”
”Perhaps,” said Harley, ”Baron Levy may here enlighten us. Do you know of any motive of self-interest that could have actuated Mr. Leslie in a.s.sisting the count's schemes?”
Levy hesitated. The count took up the word. ”Pardieu!” said he, in his clear tone of determination and will--”pardieu! I can have no doubt thrown on my a.s.sertion, least of all by those who know of its truth; and I call upon you, Baron Levy, to state whether, in case of my marriage with the duke's daughter, I had not agreed to present my sister with a sum, to which she alleged some ancient claim, and which would have pa.s.sed through your hands?”
”Certainly, that is true,” said the baron.
”And would Mr. Leslie have benefited by any portion of that sum?”
Levy paused again.
”Speak, sir,” said the count, frowning.
”The fact is,” said the baron, ”that Mr. Leslie was anxious to complete a purchase of certain estates that had once belonged to his family, and that the count's marriage with the signora, and his sister's marriage with Mr. Hazeldean, would have enabled me to accommodate Mr. Leslie with a loan to effect that purchase.”
”What! what!” exclaimed the squire, hastily b.u.t.toning his breast-pocket with one hand, while he seized Randal's arm with the other--”my son's marriage! You lent yourself to that, too? Don't look so like a lashed hound! Speak out like a man, if man you be!”