Part 32 (1/2)

”Ha!” he replied, grinding his teeth with rage, and becoming crimson from the rush of blood to his head, while he grasped my wrist hard with his hand, and shook it furiously. ”Ha! to the galleys yourself--_Chienne! Ingrate! Perfide! Traitresse! c'est aux galeres que j'ai cru te rencontrer--ou plutot a la_--”

What further atrocity the ruffian was about to utter, I know not, for while his odious voice was yet hissing in my ear these atrocious epithets, before the footman who was standing, as I have said, a few yards off at the other side of the carriage, had time to interfere, I heard the sound of a horse at full gallop, and, the next instant, he was dragged forcibly away, and I saw him quivering in the furious grasp of the Count de Chavannes, who had, it seems, been returning to join us, when the a.s.sault was committed.

To gallop to my side, to spring to the ground, to collar the ruffian, drag him from the carriage, and lash him with his whole strength with a rough jockey whip till he fairly screamed for mercy, were but the work of a moment.

And I could not but marvel afterwards to think how much power and nervous energy his indignant spirit had lent to his slight frame and slender limbs; for in size, he was by no means superior to G--, whom he nevertheless handled almost as if he had been a child of five years old.

Want of breath at last, rather than want of will, compelled him to pause in his exercise; and then turning towards us with an air as composed and smiling as if he had been merely dancing a quadrille, he took off his hat, saying:--

”I must implore your pardon, ladies, yours more especially, Mademoiselle Valerie, for enacting such a scene in your presence. _Mais c'etait plus fort que moi_!” he added, laughing. ”I could not contain myself at seeing a lady so infamously insulted.”

Caroline and the Misses Selwyn were so much frightened by the whole fracas, that they were really unable to answer, and I was for the moment so much taken by surprise, that I could not find words to reply. At this moment, covered with dust and blood, for the whip had cut his face in several places, without his hat, and with all his gay attire besmeared and rent, G--again came up towards the carriage.

He was very pale, nay white, even to the lips--but it was evidently not with terror but with rage, as his first words testified--

”_Monsieur le Comte de Chavannes_,” he said, slowly, ”_car je vous connais, et vous me connaitrez aussi, je vous le jure; vous m'avez frappe, vous me rendrez satisfaction, n'est-ce pas_?”

”Oh! no, no,” I exclaimed, before he could answer, clasping my hands eagerly together, ”oh, no, no! not on my account, I implore you, Monsieur le Comte--no life on my account--above all, not yours!”

He thanked me by one expressive glance, which spoke volumes to my heart, and perhaps read volumes in return, in my pale face and trembling lips, then turned with a calm smile to his late antagonist, and answered him in English. ”I do not know in the least, sir, who you are, and I do not suppose that I ever shall know. I chastised you, five minutes since, for insulting this lady most grossly--”

”Lady!” interrupted the ruffian, with a sneer. ”Lady. Lady of plea--”

But the Count went on without pausing or seeming to hear him--”which I should have done at all events, whether I had known you or not, and which I shall most a.s.suredly do again, should you think fit to proceed further with your infamies. As for satisfaction, if I should be called upon in a proper way, I shall not refuse it to any person worthy to meet me.”

”Which this person is not, sir,” interposed yet a third voice; and, looking up, I recognised the officer who had bowed to me: ”which this person is not, I a.s.sure you, and my word is wont to be sufficient in such cases--Lieutenant-Colonel Jervis,”--he added, with a half bow to me,--”late of His Majesty's--Light Dragoons. This person is the notorious Monsieur G--, who was detected cheating at ecarte at the 'Travellers,' was a defaulter on the St Leger in the St Patrick's year, has been warned off every race-course in England, by the Jockey Club, besides being horsewhipped by half the Legs in England. He can get no gentleman to bring you a message, sir; and if he could, you must not meet him.”

Gnas.h.i.+ng his teeth with impotent rage, the detected impostor slunk away, while the Count, bowing to Colonel Jervis, replied quietly--

”I thank you very much, Colonel. I am Monsieur de Chavannes; and I have no doubt what you say is perfectly correct. No one but a low ruffian could have behaved as this fellow did. It was, I a.s.sure you, no small offence which caused me to strike a blow in the presence of ladies.”

”I saw it, Monsieur le Comte,” answered Jervis, ”I saw it from a distance, and was coming up as fast as I could make my horse gallop, when you antic.i.p.ated me. Then, seeing that I was not wanted, I stood looking on with intense satisfaction; for, upon my word! I never saw a thing better done in my life. No offence, Count, but by the way you use your hands, I think you ought to have been an Englishman rather than a Frenchman, which I suppose from your name--for you have no French accent--you are.”

”I was at school in England, Colonel,” answered the Count, laughing, ”and so learned the use of my hands.”

”That accounts for it--that accounts for it--for on my life, I never saw a fellow more handsomely horsewhipped--and I have seen a good many, too.

Did you, Mademoiselle Valerie de Chatenoeuf; for I believe it is you whom I have the honour of addressing?”

”I have been less fortunate than you, Colonel Jervis, for I never saw any one horsewhipped before, and sincerely hope I shall never see another.”

”Don't say that, my dear lady, don't say that. I am sure it is a very pretty sight, when it is well and soundly done. Besides it seems ungrateful to the Count.”

”I would not be ungrateful for the world,” I replied; ”and I am sure the Count needs no a.s.surance of that fact. I am for ever obliged by his prompt defence of me--but it is nothing more than I should have expected from him.”

”What, that he would fight for you, Valerie?” whispered Caroline, maliciously, in a tone which, perhaps, she did not intend to be overheard; but, if such was her meaning, she missed it, for all present heard her distinctly.

I replied, however, very coolly--

”Yes, Caroline, that he would fight for me, or you, or any lady who was aggrieved or insulted in his presence.”

”_Mille graces_ for your good opinions!” said de Chavannes, with a bow, and a glance that was far more eloquent than words.