Part 35 (1/2)
CHAPTER X.
As soon as he was alone Oswald took the Conte's fateful letter from his pocket, and read it through once more.
No! he had read it aright, there it stood in black and white!.... ”After what I have thus told you,” so the letter concluded, ”it is evident that a duel between us two can be nothing but a mere formality--it is, however, a formality which I demand as due to my honour as a man ....”
He must go to his mother and show her the letter; there was nothing else to be done--nothing--! He must know whether he had the right to shoot him down like a dog, or .... He was overcome by a sudden dizziness, and the thought occurred to him, 'What if I should faint away, and some one should find this letter here and read it--!' He rose, lit a match and burnt the letter, with a feeling akin to relief when nothing remained of the disgraceful doc.u.ment, save a few ashes.
George's words recurred to him; evidently Georges suspected something wrong, that was clear,--but what? the contents of that letter he could not suspect. But what if it were true? What if some one should discover it? Every one would flee from him, even those who had loved him most.
And on a sudden he himself felt a fearful, paralysing disgust at the blood in his veins! A dull lump seemed to rise in his throat,--it choked him. 'But it cannot be,' he said to himself, 'it cannot be.'
Then he sat still for a long time, scarcely daring even to think; he himself did not know for how long, but when at last the door opened and Georges entered, he noticed that it had begun to grow dark.
”Well--the affair is settled!” began Georges gloomily.
”For when?”
”To-morrow morning at six o'clock--devil that he is, it could not be soon enough for him; he pretended that he must leave for Paris in the evening; probably he thought that if the duel were delayed you might reconsider it, and instead of giving him satisfaction for the insult of which he complains, add to it the thras.h.i.+ng which he deserves.”
Oswald sat leaning his head on his hand and did not speak.
”G.o.d knows, I would not have gone to him,” Georges went on, ”if I had not hoped to arrange matters amicably, even against your will,--if I had not thought I could persuade him to withdraw his crazy challenge!
But the swindler has resolved to fight you; it is the greatest social triumph that he has achieved in all the years that he has been trying to climb. Kilary told me, in so many words, that it was only for show, that it was to be a mere formality,--but--. Even that cynic, Kilary, declares that he cannot understand your condescension. Well, you rank so high in public opinion, that people will only wonder at your eccentricity. Will you say good-bye to Fritz, or shall we go immediately?”
Fritz had fallen asleep, Oswald would not disturb him, and so they rode off.
There must have been a storm in the neighbourhood; the air had grown cooler, a light wind whirled the dust aloft. Heavy broken clouds were driving overhead, and where the sun had set there was a glow as of a conflagration, as if the sun in descending had set fire to the clouds.
The red light slowly faded, and all colours were merged in melancholy, uniform gray.
The two men rode on in silence, which was broken at last by Oswald; ”Georges, I know that if this affair turns out badly to-morrow you will be blamed for your share in it, blameless though you be. Wherefore I will leave a letter behind me, telling how I absolutely forced you to be my second.”
”What an idea!” exclaimed Georges angrily; then he added affectionately--”if so terrible a misfortune should occur, I should have neither heart nor head to care what people said! Moreover, after what Kilary told me, there can be no chance of any tragical conclusion to the affair.”
”One never can tell,” rejoined Oswald.
Georges was startled, and after a short pause began. ”Don't be childish, Ossi! It depends entirely upon you whether this duel ends harmlessly or not;--there's not much honour to be gained in provoking a mad dog. Since you condescend--to my utter mystification--to fight with Capriani, do not irritate him by disdainful conduct on the ground. A very minute portion of courtesy will suffice to satisfy him,--but thus much is absolutely necessary!”
Oswald made no reply. After a while he turned his horse. ”Where are you going?” asked Georges.
In a constrained, unnatural voice Oswald replied. ”You ride on towards home, I should like to go to Rautschin to see Gabrielle, before....”
Georges, who had failed to understand so much in his cousin's behaviour through the day, thought this desire at least quite natural. He let Oswald go, and rode on alone to Tornow. He looked round once after Oswald, and was surprised to see him ride so slowly,--he was walking his horse.
What the young man wanted was,--not to clasp his betrothed in his arms,--all that he wanted by this prolongation of his ride was the postponement of the interview with his mother. When he reached Rautschin he stopped short and looked up at the windows of the castle.
He thought of the first happy days of his betrothal in Paris; image after image pa.s.sed before his mind with beguiling sweetness;--for a moment he forgot everything.