Volume I Part 11 (1/2)
Yes,” he added solemnly, as he crossed himself, ”please G.o.d.”
Lord Spunyarn shook his head. There seemed no other way out of it; the Frenchman had been struck, the insult was in a public place; an apology or arrangement was impossible. Spunyarn was well aware that Barb.i.+.c.he was by no means an antagonist to be despised. He had been a journalist, a career which in France may enable a man to attain the highest positions; from journalism he had drifted into diplomacy, as French journalists sometimes do. This was after his accession to the fortune of a deceased uncle. Of course, he was skilled with the small-sword, as all French journalists are bound to be; his reputation with the pistol was equally deadly.
”I shall send my friend to him in the morning,” said M. Barb.i.+.c.he calmly, as leaning on Lord Spunyarn's arm he left the ball-room. ”I suppose you will act for him?”
”Don't know, I'm sure. I'm not up to these things, but I don't see why you should shoot each other over it.”
The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders as he stepped into his perfectly-appointed but funereal-looking little brougham. As he drove home he meditated on his wrongs, and in his heart of hearts he swore that four-and-twenty hours should not elapse ere the insult should be avenged by his own skilful hand.
CHAPTER XI.
A MEETING IN THE GOOD OLD STYLE.
Lord Spunyarn woke with a very bad headache indeed, the morning after the ball at Papayani's. He hurried to commence his dressing, for his valet on awakening him had presented a thin and varnished card, bearing a portentous coronet and the name of the Comte de Kerguel. The man told him that the visitor had come on business of the most urgent nature.
What his business was, Spunyarn was well aware. Knowing that, next to getting married, a Frenchman looks upon the delivery of a hostile message, as the most important, pleasant, and serious event of life; Spunyarn wisely dressed himself with care and deliberation. When he entered his sitting-room M. de Kerguel rose and profoundly saluted him.
”Milor Spunyarn. I have the honour of addressing him?”
”Yes, it's quite right, that's me Please be seated.”
The Frenchman sat himself down bolt upright.
”I suppose, Lord Spunyarn, that my visit is not unexpected. I had the honour to call upon your friend Monsieur Haggard, to demand satisfaction from him on the part of my friend, Monsieur Barb.i.+.c.he. You, I believe, were present at the whole affair. Monsieur Haggard has referred me to you as his friend.”
Spunyarn bowed, stretched out his long legs towards the fire, and opening his cigarette case offered it to Monsieur de Kerguel.
”Won't you smoke?” he said.
A French gentleman in a new frock coat, on the most serious of all missions, the bearer of a hostile message to a man he has never met in his life before, is asked to smoke!
A crowd of strange thoughts pa.s.sed through his mind. Are these Englishmen cowards? He drew himself up more stiffly than before, as he declined the offer.
”Have you breakfasted?” said his hospitable lords.h.i.+p, ignoring the gesture.
”Lord Spunyarn,” replied the Frenchman, ”I come to you this morning purely as the emissary of my insulted friend; not to accept of your kindness, or to trespa.s.s on your hospitality.”
”Oh, of course I understand that; but you see we English don't fight duels as a rule. Of course I should be sorry to balk you, but can't it be arranged?”
”Lord Spunyarn, you are aware that my friend was struck. In my country, no gentleman receives a blow without avenging it. Least of all a journalist or a diplomate. My friend Monsieur Barb.i.+.c.he was one, and is the other. In speaking of arrangement, milor, I would suggest that we are wasting time.”
”But I don't quite see that,” persisted Spunyarn, strong in his idea that the man who fights a duel is a fool. ”You see there was a lady in the matter, and your friend insulted her. Why man, he actually touched her, I saw him do it.”
”Milor, ladies who go to masked b.a.l.l.s are accustomed to such marks of attention. What my friend did was but a condescension on his part. But there was a blow struck, milor. Besides this, Monsieur Haggard has referred me to his friend Lord Spunyarn, I suppose with a definite purpose, and not with the intention of causing me to listen to, shall we say homilies, from his lords.h.i.+p.”
”The whole affair's a beastly nuisance. I don't understand these things, but I will try to settle the matter.”
”Milor, the matter admits of no settlement,” said the Breton menacingly, rising from his chair.
”I tell you plainly, Monsieur de Kerguel, it is very much against the grain that I have anything to do with the matter. Unfortunately, as you say, I was present, and I tell you that our friend Barb.i.+.c.he behaved like a lunatic. Why he kicked _my_ hat off, and I don't want to call him out.”