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The O'Ruddy: A Romance

by Stephen Crane · English · Gutenberg #29573 · 534,821 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The O'Ruddy: A Romance

Author: Stephen Crane
        Robert Barr

Illustrator: C. D. Williams


        
Release date: August 2, 2009 [eBook #29573]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/29573

Credits: Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, David Edwards, and the
        Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
        (This file was produced from images generously made
        available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE O'RUDDY: A ROMANCE ***




Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, David Edwards, and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
(This file was produced from images generously made
available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)








                             THE O'RUDDY

                             _A ROMANCE_


                                  BY

                            STEPHEN CRANE

            _Author of "The Red Badge of Courage," "Active
                Service," "Wounds in the Rain," etc._

                                 AND

                             ROBERT BARR

            _Author of "Tekla," "In the Midst of Alarms,"
               "Over the Border," "The Victors," etc._



                        _With frontispiece by_

                            C. D. WILLIAMS





                               NEW YORK

                     FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY

                              PUBLISHERS





                          _Copyright, 1903,_

                    BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY

       *       *       *       *       *




THE O'RUDDY

CHAPTER I


My chieftain ancestors had lived at Glandore for many centuries and
were very well known. Hardly a ship could pass the Old Head of Kinsale
without some boats putting off to exchange the time of day with her,
and our family name was on men's tongues in half the seaports of
Europe, I dare say. My ancestors lived in castles which were like
churches stuck on end, and they drank the best of everything amid the
joyous cries of a devoted peasantry. But the good time passed away
soon enough, and when I had reached the age of eighteen we had nobody
on the land but a few fisher-folk and small farmers, people who were
almost law-abiding, and my father came to die more from disappointment
than from any other cause. Before the end he sent for me to come to
his bedside.

"Tom," he said, "I brought you into existence, and God help you safe
out of it; for you are not the kind of man ever to turn your hand to
work, and there is only enough money to last a gentleman five more
years.

"The 'Martha Bixby,' she was, out of Bristol for the West Indies, and
if it hadn't been for her we would never have got along this far with
plenty to eat and drink. However, I leave you, besides the money, the
two swords,--the grand one that King Louis, God bless him, gave me,
and the plain one that will really be of use to you if you get into a
disturbance. Then here is the most important matter of all. Here are
some papers which young Lord Strepp gave me to hold for him when we
were comrades in France. I don't know what they are, having had very
little time for reading during my life, but do you return them to him.
He is now the great Earl of Westport, and he lives in London in a
grand house, I hear. In the last campaign in France I had to lend him
a pair of breeches or he would have gone bare. These papers are
important to him, and he may reward you, but do not you depend on it,
for you may get the back of his hand. I have not seen him for years. I
am glad I had you taught to read. They read considerably in England, I
hear. There is one more cask of the best brandy remaining, and I
recommend you to leave for England as soon as it is finished. And now,
one more thing, my lad, never be civil to a king's officer. Wherever
you see a red coat, depend there is a rogue between the front and the
back of it. I have said everything. Push the bottle near me."

Three weeks after my father's burial I resolved to set out, with no
more words, to deliver the papers to the Earl of Westport. I was
resolved to be prompt in obeying my father's command, for I was
extremely anxious to see the world, and my feet would hardly wait for
me. I put my estate into the hands of old Mickey Clancy, and told him
not to trouble the tenants too much over the rent, or they probably
would split his skull for him. And I bid Father Donovan look out for
old Mickey Clancy, that he stole from me only what was reasonable.

I went to the Cove of Cork and took ship there for Bristol, and
arrived safely after a passage amid great storms which blew us so near
Glandore that I feared the enterprise of my own peasantry. Bristol, I
confess, frightened me greatly. I had not imagined such a huge and
teeming place. All the ships in the world seemed to lie there, and the
quays were thick with sailor-men. The streets rang with noise. I
suddenly found that I was a young gentleman from the country.

I followed my luggage to the best inn, and it was very splendid, fit
to be a bishop's palace. It was filled with handsomely dressed people
who all seemed to be yelling, "Landlord! landlord!" And there was a
little fat man in a white apron who flew about as if he were being
stung by bees, and he was crying, "Coming, sir! Yes, madam! At once,
your ludship!" They heeded me no more than if I had been an empty
glass. I stood on one leg, waiting until the little fat man should
either wear himself out or attend all the people. But it was to no
purpose. He did not wear out, nor did his business finish, so finally
I was obliged to plant myself in his way, but my speech was decent
enough as I asked him for a chamber. Would you believe it, he stopped
abruptly and stared at me with sudden suspicion. My speech had been so
civil that he had thought perhaps I was a rogue. I only give you this
incident to show that if later I came to bellow like a bull with the
best of them, it was only through the necessity of proving to
strangers that I was a gentleman. I soon learned to enter an inn as a
drunken soldier goes through the breach into a surrendering city.

Having made myself as presentable as possible, I came down from my
chamber to seek some supper. The supper-room was ablaze with light and
well filled with persons of quality, to judge from the noise that they
were making. My seat was next to a garrulous man in plum-colour, who
seemed to know the affairs of the entire world. As I dropped into my
chair he was saying--

"--the heir to the title, of course. Young Lord Strepp. That is
he--the slim youth with light hair. Oh, of course, all in shipping.
The Earl must own twenty sail that trade from Bristol. He is posting
down from London, by the way, to-night."

You can well imagine how these words excited me. I half arose from my
chair with the idea of going at once to the young man who had been
indicated as Lord Strepp, and informing him of my errand, but I had a
sudden feeling of timidity, a feeling that it was necessary to be
proper with these people of high degree. I kept my seat, resolving to
accost him directly after supper. I studied him with interest. He was
a young man of about twenty years, with fair unpowdered hair and a
face ruddy from a life in the open air. He looked generous and kindly,
but just at the moment he was damning a waiter in language that would
have set fire to a stone bridge. Opposite him was a clear-eyed
soldierly man of about forty, whom I had heard called "Colonel," and
at the Colonel's right was a proud, dark-skinned man who kept looking
in all directions to make sure that people regarded him, seated thus
with a lord.

They had drunk eight bottles of port, and in those days eight bottles
could just put three gentlemen in pleasant humour. As the ninth bottle
came on the table the Colonel cried--

"Come, Strepp, tell us that story of how your father lost his papers.
Gad, that's a good story."

"No, no," said the young lord. "It isn't a good story, and besides my
father never tells it at all. I misdoubt it's truth."

The Colonel pounded the table. "'Tis true. 'Tis too good a story to be
false. You know the story, Forister?" said he, turning to the
dark-skinned man. The latter shook his head.

"Well, when the Earl was a young man serving with the French he rather
recklessly carried with him some valuable papers relating to some
estates in the North, and once the noble Earl--or Lord Strepp as he
was then--found it necessary, after fording a stream, to hang his
breeches on a bush to dry, and then a certain blackguard of a wild
Irishman in the corps came along and stole--"

But I had arisen and called loudly but with dignity up the long table,
"That, sir, is a lie." The room came still with a bang, if I may be
allowed that expression. Every one gaped at me, and the Colonel's face
slowly went the colour of a tiled roof.

"My father never stole his lordship's breeches, for the good reason
that at the time his lordship had no breeches. 'Twas the other way. My
father--"

Here the two long rows of faces lining the room crackled for a moment,
and then every man burst into a thunderous laugh. But I had flung to
the winds my timidity of a new country, and I was not to be put down
by these clowns.

"'Tis a lie against an honourable man and my father," I shouted. "And
if my father hadn't provided his lordship with breeches, he would have
gone bare, and there's the truth. And," said I, staring at the
Colonel, "I give the lie again. We are never obliged to give it twice
in my country."

The Colonel had been grinning a little, no doubt thinking, along with
everybody else in the room, that I was drunk or crazy; but this last
twist took the smile off his face clean enough, and he came to his
feet with a bound. I awaited him. But young Lord Strepp and Forister
grabbed him and began to argue. At the same time there came down upon
me such a deluge of waiters and pot-boys, and, may be, hostlers, that
I couldn't have done anything if I had been an elephant. They were
frightened out of their wits and painfully respectful, but all the
same and all the time they were bundling me toward the door. "Sir!
Sir! Sir! I beg you, sir! Think of the 'ouse, sir! Sir! Sir! Sir!" And
I found myself out in the hall.

Here I addressed them calmly. "Loose me and takes yourselves off
quickly, lest I grow angry and break some dozen of these wooden
heads." They took me at my word and vanished like ghosts. Then the
landlord came bleating, but I merely told him that I wanted to go to
my chamber, and if anybody inquired for me I wished him conducted up
at once.

In my chamber I had not long to wait. Presently there were steps in
the corridor and a knock at my door. At my bidding the door opened and
Lord Strepp entered. I arose and we bowed. He was embarrassed and
rather dubious.

"Aw," he began, "I come, sir, from Colonel Royale, who begs to be
informed who he has had the honour of offending, sir?"

"'Tis not a question for your father's son, my lord," I answered
bluntly at last.

"You are, then, the son of The O'Ruddy?"

"No," said I. "I am The O'Ruddy. My father died a month gone and
more."

"Oh!" said he. And I now saw why he was embarrassed. He had feared
from the beginning that I was altogether too much in the right. "Oh!"
said he again. I made up my mind that he was a good lad. "That is
dif--" he began awkwardly. "I mean, Mr. O'Ruddy--oh, damn it all, you
know what I mean, Mr. O'Ruddy!"

I bowed. "Perfectly, my lord!" I did not understand him, of course.

"I shall have the honour to inform Colonel Royale that Mr. O'Ruddy is
entitled to every consideration," he said more collectedly. "If Mr.
O'Ruddy will have the goodness to await me here?"

"Yes, my lord." He was going in order to tell the Colonel that I was a
gentleman. And of course he returned quickly with the news. But he did
not look as if the message was one which he could deliver with a glib
tongue. "Sir," he began, and then halted. I could but courteously
wait. "Sir, Colonel Royale bids me say that he is shocked to find that
he has carelessly and publicly inflicted an insult upon an unknown
gentleman through the memory of the gentleman's dead father. Colonel
Royale bids me to say, sir, that he is overwhelmed with regret, and
that far from taking an initial step himself it is his duty to express
to you his feeling that his movements should coincide with any
arrangements you may choose to make."

I was obliged to be silent for a considerable period in order to
gather head and tail of this marvellous sentence. At last I caught it.
"At daybreak I shall walk abroad," I replied, "and I have no doubt
that Colonel Royale will be good enough to accompany me. I know
nothing of Bristol. Any cleared space will serve."

My Lord Strepp bowed until he almost knocked his forehead on the
floor. "You are most amiable, Mr. O'Ruddy. You of course will give me
the name of some friend to whom I can refer minor matters?"

I found that I could lie in England as readily as ever I did in
Ireland. "My friend will be on the ground with me, my lord; and as he
also is a very amiable man it will not take two minutes to make
everything clear and fair." Me, with not a friend in the world but
Father O'Donovan and Mickey Clancy at Glandore!

Lord Strepp bowed again, the same as before. "Until the morning then,
Mr. O'Ruddy," he said, and left me.

I sat me down on my bed to think. In truth I was much puzzled and
amazed. These gentlemen were actually reasonable and were behaving
like men of heart. Neither my books nor my father's stories--great
lies, many of them, God rest him!--had taught me that the duelling
gentry could think at all, and I was quite certain that they never
tried. "You were looking at me, sir?" "Was I, 'faith? Well, if I care
to look at you I shall look at you." And then away they would go at
it, prodding at each other's bellies until somebody's flesh swallowed
a foot of steel. "Sir, I do not like the colour of your coat!" Clash!
"Sir, red hair always offends me." Cling! "Sir, your fondness for
rabbit-pie is not polite." Clang!

However, the minds of young Lord Strepp and Colonel Royale seemed to
be capable of a process which may be termed human reflection. It was
plain that the Colonel did not like the situation at all, and perhaps
considered himself the victim of a peculiarly exasperating combination
of circumstances. That an Irishman should turn up in Bristol and give
him the lie over a French pair of breeches must have seemed
astonishing to him, notably when he learned that the Irishman was
quite correct, having in fact a clear title to speak authoritatively
upon the matter of the breeches. And when Lord Strepp learned that I
was The O'Ruddy he saw clearly that the Colonel was in the wrong, and
that I had a perfect right to resent the insult to my father's memory.
And so the Colonel probably said: "Look you, Strepp. I have no desire
to kill this young gentleman, because I insulted his father's name. It
is out of all decency. And do you go to him this second time and see
what may be done in the matter of avoidance. But, mark you, if he
expresses any wishes, you of course offer immediate accommodation. I
will not wrong him twice." And so up came my Lord Strepp and hemmed
and hawed in that way which puzzled me. A pair of thoughtful,
honourable fellows, these, and I admired them greatly.

There was now no reason why I should keep my chamber, since if I now
met even the Colonel himself there would be no brawling; only bows. I
was not, indeed, fond of these latter,--replying to Lord Strepp had
almost broken my back; but, any how, more bows were better than more
loud words and another downpour of waiters and pot-boys.

But I had reckoned without the dark-skinned man, Forister. When I
arrived in the lower corridor and was passing through it on my way to
take the air, I found a large group of excited people talking of the
quarrel and the duel that was to be fought at daybreak. I thought it
was a great hubbub over a very small thing, but it seems that the
mainspring of the excitement was the tongue of this black Forister.
"Why, the Irish run naked through their native forests," he was
crying. "Their sole weapon is the great knotted club, with which,
however, they do not hesitate, when in great numbers, to attack lions
and tigers. But how can this barbarian face the sword of an officer of
His Majesty's army?"

Some in the group espied my approach, and there was a nudging of
elbows. There was a general display of agitation, and I marvelled at
the way in which many made it to appear that they had not formed part
of the group at all. Only Forister was cool and insolent. He stared
full at me and grinned, showing very white teeth. "Swords are very
different from clubs, great knotted clubs," he said with admirable
deliberation.

"Even so," rejoined I gravely. "Swords are for gentlemen, while clubs
are to clout the heads of rogues--thus." I boxed his ear with my open
hand, so that he fell against the wall. "I will now picture also the
use of boots by kicking you into the inn yard which is adjacent." So
saying I hurled him to the great front door which stood open, and
then, taking a sort of hop and skip, I kicked for glory and the
Saints.

I do not know that I ever kicked a man with more success. He shot out
as if he had been heaved by a catapult. There was a dreadful uproar
behind me, and I expected every moment to be stormed by the
waiter-and-pot-boy regiment. However I could hear some of the
gentlemen bystanding cry:

"Well done! Well kicked! A record! A miracle!"

But my first hours on English soil contained still other festivities.
Bright light streamed out from the great door, and I could plainly
note what I shall call the arc or arcs described by Forister. He
struck the railing once, but spun off it, and to my great astonishment
went headlong and slap-crash into some sort of an upper servant who
had been approaching the door with both arms loaded with cloaks,
cushions, and rugs.

I suppose the poor man thought that black doom had fallen upon him
from the sky. He gave a great howl as he, Forister, the cloaks,
cushions, and rugs spread out grandly in one sublime confusion.

Some ladies screamed, and a bold commanding voice said: "In the
devil's name what have we here?" Behind the unhappy servant had been
coming two ladies and a very tall gentleman in a black cloak that
reached to his heels. "What have we here?" again cried this tall man,
who looked like an old eagle. He stepped up to me haughtily. I knew
that I was face to face with the Earl of Westport.

But was I a man for ever in the wrong that I should always be giving
down and walking away with my tail between my legs? Not I; I stood
bravely to the Earl:

"If your lordship pleases, 'tis The O'Ruddy kicking a blackguard into
the yard," I made answer coolly.

I could see that he had been about to shout for the landlord and more
waiters and pot-boys, but at my naming myself he gave a quick stare.

"The O'Ruddy?" he repeated. "Rubbish!"

He was startled, bewildered; but I could not tell if he were glad or
grieved.

"'Tis all the name I own," I said placidly. "My father left it me
clear, it being something that he could not mortgage. 'Twas on his
death-bed he told me of lending you the breeches, and that is why I
kicked the man into the yard; and if your lordship had arrived sooner
I could have avoided this duel at daybreak, and, any how, I wonder at
his breeches fitting you. He was a small man."

Suddenly the Earl raised his hand. "Enough," he said sternly. "You are
your father's son. Come to my chamber in the morning, O'Ruddy."

There had been little chance to see what was inside the cloaks of the
ladies, but at the words of the Earl there peeped from one hood a pair
of bright liquid eyes--God save us all! In a flash I was no longer a
free man; I was a dazed slave; the Saints be good to us!

The contents of the other hood could not have been so interesting, for
from it came the raucous voice of a bargeman with a cold:

"Why did he kick him? Whom did he kick? Had he cheated at play? Where
has he gone?"

The upper servant appeared, much battered and holding his encrimsoned
nose.

"My lord--" he began.

But the Earl roared at him,--

"Hold your tongue, rascal, and in future look where you are going and
don't get in a gentleman's way."

The landlord, in a perfect anguish, was hovering with his squadrons on
the flanks. They could not think of pouncing upon me if I was noticed
at all by the great Earl; but, somewhat as a precaution perhaps, they
remained in form for attack. I had no wish that the pair of bright
eyes should see me buried under a heap of these wretches, so I bowed
low to the ladies and to the Earl and passed out of doors. As I left,
the Earl moved his hand to signify that he was now willing to endure
the attendance of the landlord and his people, and in a moment the inn
rang with hurried cries and rushing feet.

As I passed near the taproom window the light fell full upon a
railing; just beneath and over this railing hung two men. At first I
thought they were ill, but upon passing near I learned that they were
simply limp and helpless with laughter, the sound of which they
contrived to keep muffled. To my surprise I recognized the persons of
young Lord Strepp and Colonel Royale.




CHAPTER II


The night was growing, and as I was to fight at daybreak I needed a
good rest; but I could not forget that in my pride I had told Lord
Strepp that I was provided with a friend to attend me at the duel. It
was on my mind. I must achieve a friend, or Colonel Royale might quite
properly refuse to fight me on the usual grounds that if he killed me
there would be present no adherent of my cause to declare that the
fight was fair. And any how I had lied so thoroughly to Lord Strepp. I
must have a friend.

But how was I to carve a friend out of this black Bristol at such
short notice? My sense told me that friends could not be found in the
road like pebbles, but some curious feeling kept me abroad, scanning
by the light of the lanterns or the torches each face that passed me.
A low dull roar came from the direction of the quay, and this was the
noise of the sailor-men, being drunk. I knew that there would be none
found there to suit my purpose, but my spirit led me to wander so that
I could not have told why I went this way or that way.

Of a sudden I heard from a grassy bank beside me the sound of low and
strenuous sobbing. I stopped dead short to listen, moved by
instinctive recognition. Aye, I was right. It was Irish keening. Some
son of Erin was spelling out his sorrow to the darkness with that
profound and garrulous eloquence which is in the character of my
people.

"Wirra, wirra! Sorrow the day I would be leaving Ireland against my
own will and intention, and may the rocks go out to meet the lugger
that brought me here! It's beginning to rain, too! Sure it never rains
like this in Ireland! And me without a brass penny to buy a bed! If
the Saints save me from England, 'tis al--"

"Come out of that, now!" said I.

The monologue ceased; there was a quick silence. Then the voice, much
altered, said: "Who calls? 'Tis may be an Irish voice!"

"It is," said I. "I've swallowed as much peat smoke as any man of my
years. Come out of that now, and let me have a look at you."

He came trustfully enough, knowing me to be Irish, and I examined him
as well as I was able in the darkness. He was what I expected, a
bedraggled vagabond with tear-stains on his dirty cheeks and a vast
shock of hair which I well knew would look, in daylight, like a
burning haycock. And as I examined him he just as carefully examined
me. I could see his shrewd blue eyes twinkling.

"You are a red man," said I. "I know the strain; 'tis better than
some. Your family must have been very inhospitable people." And then,
thinking that I had spent enough time, I was about to give the fellow
some coin and send him away. But here a mad project came into my empty
head. I had ever been the victim of my powerful impulses, which surge
up within me and sway me until I can only gasp at my own conduct. The
sight of this red-headed scoundrel had thrust an idea into my head,
and I was a lost man.

"Mark you!" said I to him. "You know what I am?"

"'Tis hard to see in the dark," he answered; "but I mistrust you are a
gentleman, sir. McDermott of the Three Trees had a voice and a way
with him like you, and Father Burk too, and he was a gentleman born if
he could only remain sober."

"Well, you've hit it, in the dark or whatever," said I. "I am a
gentleman. Indeed I am an O'Ruddy. Have you ever been hearing of my
family?"

"Not of your honour's branch of it, sure," he made answer confidently.
"But I have often been hearing of the O'Ruddys of Glandore, who are
well known to be such great robbers and blackguards that their match
is not to be found in all the south of Ireland. Nor in the west,
neither, for that matter."

"Aye," said I, "I have heard that that branch of the family was much
admired by the peasantry for their qualities. But let us have done
with it and speak of other matters. I want a service of you."

"Yes, your honour," said he, dropping his voice. "May be 'twill not be
the first time I've been behind a ditch; but the light to-night is
very bad unless I am knowing him well, and I would never be forgetting
how Tim Malone let fly in the dark of a night like this, thinking it
was a bailiff, until she screamed out with the pain in her leg, the
poor creature, and her beyond seventy and a good Catholic."

"Come out of it now!" said I impatiently. "You will be behind no
ditch." And as we walked back to the inn I explained to my new man the
part I wished him to play. He was amazed at it, and I had to explain
fifty times; but when it once was established in his red head Paddy
was wild with enthusiasm, and I had to forbid him telling me how well
he would do it.

I had them give him some straw in the stable, and then retired to my
chamber for needed rest. Before dawn I had them send Paddy to me, and
by the light of a new fire I looked at him. Ye Saints! What hair! It
must have been more than a foot in length, and the flaming strands
radiated in all directions from an isolated and central spire which
shot out straight toward the sky. I knew what to do with his tatters,
but that crimson thatch dumfounded me. However there was no going back
now, so I set to work upon him. Luckily my wardrobe represented three
generations of O'Ruddy clothes, and there was a great plenty. I put my
impostor in a suit of blue velvet with a flowered waistcoat and
stockings of pink. I gave him a cocked hat and a fine cloak. I worked
with success up to the sword-belt, and there I was checked. I had two
swords, but only one belt. However, I slung the sword which King Louis
had given my father on a long string from Paddy's neck and sternly bid
him keep his cloak tight about him. We were ready.

"Now, Paddy," said I, "do you bow in this manner." I bowed as a
gentleman should. But I will not say how I strove with him. I could do
little in that brief space. If he remained motionless and kept his
tongue still he was somewhat near his part, but the moment he moved he
was astonishing. I depended on keeping him under my eye, and I told
him to watch me like a cat. "Don't go thinking how grand you are, that
way," I cried to him angrily. "If you make a blunder of it, the
gentlemen will cudgel you, mark you that. Do you as I direct you. And
the string, curse you. Mind your cloak!" The villain had bethought him
of his flowered waistcoat, and with a comic air flung back his coat to
display it. "Take your fingers out of your mouth. Stop scratching your
shin with your foot. Leave your hair alone. 'Tis as good and as bad as
you can make it. Come along now, and hold your tongue like a graven
image if you would not be having me stop the duel to lather you."

We marched in good order out of the inn. We saw our two gentlemen
awaiting us, wrapped in their cloaks, for the dawn was cold. They
bowed politely, and as I returned their salute I said in a low, quick
aside to Paddy:

"Now, for the love of God, bow for your life!"

My intense manner must have frightened the poor thing, for he ducked
as swiftly as if he had been at a fair in Ireland and somebody had
hove a cobble at his head.

"Come up!" I whispered, choking with rage. "Come up! You'll be
breaking your nose on the road."

He straightened himself, looking somewhat bewildered, and said:

"What was it? Was I too slow? Did I do it well?"

"Oh, fine," said I. "Fine. You do it as well as that once more, and
you will probably break your own neck, and 'tis not me will be buying
masses for your soul, you thief. Now don't drop as if a gamekeeper had
shot at you. There is no hurry in life. Be quiet and easy."

"I mistrusted I was going too fast," said he; "but for the life of me
I couldn't pull up. If I had been the Dublin mail, and the road thick
as fleas with highwaymen, I should have gone through them grand."

My Lord Strepp and Colonel Royale had not betrayed the slightest
surprise at the appearance of my extraordinary companion. Their
smooth, regular faces remained absolutely imperturbable. This I took
to be very considerate of them, but I gave them just a little more
than their due, as I afterward perceived when I came to understand the
English character somewhat. The great reason was that Paddy and I were
foreigners. It is not to be thought that gentlemen of their position
would have walked out for a duel with an Englishman in the party of so
fantastic an appearance. They would have placed him at once as a
person impossible and altogether out of their class. They would have
told a lackey to kick this preposterous creation into the horse-pond.
But since Paddy was a foreigner he was possessed of some curious
license, and his grotesque ways could be explained fully in the simple
phrase, "'Tis a foreigner."

So, then, we preceded my Lord Strepp and Colonel Royale through a
number of narrow streets and out into some clear country. I chose a
fine open bit of green turf as a goodly place for us to meet, and I
warped Paddy through the gate and moved to the middle of the field. I
drew my sword and saluted, and then turned away. I had told Paddy
everything which a heaven-sent sense of instruction could suggest, and
if he failed I could do no more than kill him.

After I had kicked him sharply he went aside with Lord Strepp, and
they indulged in what sounded like a very animated discussion.
Finally I was surprised to see Lord Strepp approaching me. He said:

"It is very irregular, but I seem unable to understand your friend. He
has proposed to me that the man whose head is broken first--I do not
perfectly understand what he could mean by that; it does not enter our
anticipations that a man could possibly have his head broken--he has
proposed that the man whose head may be broken first should provide
'lashings'--I feel sure that is the word--lashings of meat and drink
at some good inn for the others. Lashings is a word which I do not
know. We do not know how to understand you gentlemen when you speak of
lashings. I am instructed to meet any terms which you may suggest, but
I find that I cannot make myself clear to your friend who speaks of
nothing but lashings."

"Sir," said I, as I threw coat and waistcoat on the grass, "my friend
refers to a custom of his own country. You will, I feel sure, pardon
his misconception of the circumstances. Pray accept my regrets, and,
if you please, I am ready."

He immediately signified that his mind was now clear, and that the
incident of Paddy's lashings he regarded as closed. As for that
flame-headed imp of crime, if I could have got my hands upon him he
would have taken a short road to his fathers. Him and his lashings! As
I stood there with a black glare at him, the impudent scoundrel
repeatedly winked at me with the readable information that if I only
would be patient and bide a moment he would compass something very
clever. As I faced Colonel Royale I was so wild with thinking of what
I would do to Paddy, that, for all I knew, I might have been crossing
swords with my mother.

And now as to this duel. I will not conceal that I was a very fine
fencer in both the French and Italian manners. My father was in his
day one of the finest blades in Paris, and had fought with some of the
most skillful and impertinent gentlemen in all France. He had done his
best to give me his eye and his wrist, and sometimes he would say that
I was qualified to meet all but the best in the world. He commonly
made fun of the gentlemen of England, saying that a dragoon was their
ideal of a man with a sword; and he would add that the rapier was a
weapon which did not lend itself readily to the wood-chopper's art. He
was all for the French and Italian schools.

I had always thought that my father's judgment was very good, but I
could not help reflecting that if it turned out to be bad I would have
a grievance as well as a sword-thrust in the body. Colonel Royale came
at me in a somewhat leisurely manner, and, as I said, my mind was so
full of rage at Paddy that I met the first of my opponent's thrusts
through sheer force of habit. But my head was clear a moment later,
and I knew that I was fighting my first duel in England and for my
father's honour. It was no time to think of Paddy.

Another moment later I knew that I was the Colonel's master. I could
reach him where I chose. But he did not know it. He went on prodding
away with a serious countenance, evidently under the impression that
he had me hard put to it. He was as grave as an owl-faced parson. And
now here I did a sorry thing. I became the victim of another of my mad
impulses. I was seized with an ungovernable desire to laugh. It was
hideous. But laugh I did, and, of necessity, square in the Colonel's
face. And to this day I regret it.

Then the real duel began. At my laugh the Colonel instantly lost his
grave air, and his countenance flushed with high, angry surprise. He
beset me in a perfect fury, caring no more for his guard than if he
had been made of iron. Never have I seen such quick and tremendous
change in a man. I had laughed at him under peculiar conditions: very
well, then; he was a demon. Thrice my point pricked him to keep him
off, and thrice my heart was in my mouth that he would come on
regardless. The blood oozed out on his white ruffled shirt; he was
panting heavily, and his eyes rolled. He was a terrible sight to face.
At last I again touched him, and this time sharply and in the sword
arm, and upon the instant my Lord Strepp knocked our blades apart.

"Enough," he cried sternly. "Back, Colonel! Back!"

The Colonel flung himself sobbing into his friend's arms, choking out,
"O God, Strepp! I couldn't reach him. I couldn't reach him, Strepp!
Oh, my God!"

At the same time I disappeared, so to speak, in the embrace of my
red-headed villain, who let out an Irish howl of victory that should
have been heard at Glandore. "Be quiet, rascal," I cried, flinging him
off. But he went on with his howling until I was obliged forcibly to
lead him to a corner of the field, where he exclaimed:

"Oh, your honour, when I seen the other gentleman, all blazing with
rage, rush at you that way, and me with not so much as a tuppence for
all my service to you excepting these fine clothes and the sword,
although I am thinking I shall have little to do with swords if this
is the way they do it, I said, 'Sorrow the day England saw me!'"

If I had a fool for a second, Colonel Royale had a fine, wise young
man. Lord Strepp was dealing firmly and coolly with his maddened
principal.

"I can fight with my left hand," the Colonel was screaming. "I tell
you, Strepp, I am resolved! Don't bar my way! I will kill him! I will
kill him!"

"You are not in condition to fight," said the undisturbed young man.
"You are wounded in four places already. You are in my hands. You will
fight no more to-day."

"But, Strepp!" wailed the Colonel. "Oh, my God, Strepp!"

"You fight no more to-day," said the young lord.

Then happened unexpected interruptions. Paddy told me afterward that
during the duel a maid had looked over a wall and yelled, and dropped
a great brown bowl at sight of our occupation. She must have been the
instrument that aroused the entire county, for suddenly men came
running from everywhere. And the little boys! There must have been
little boys from all over England.

"What is it? What is it?"

"Two gentlemen have been fighting!"

"Oh, aye, look at him with the blood on him!"

"Well, and there is young my Lord Strepp. He'd be deep in the matter,
I warrant you!"

"Look yon, Bill! Mark the gentleman with the red hair. He's not from
these parts, truly. Where, think you, he comes from?"

"'Tis a great marvel to see such hair, and I doubt not he comes from
Africa."

They did not come very near, for in those days there was little the
people feared but a gentleman, and small wonder. However, when the
little boys judged that the delay in a resumption of the fight was too
prolonged, they did not hesitate to express certain unconventional
opinions and commands.

"Hurry up, now!"

"Go on!"

"You're both afeared!"

"Begin! Begin!"

"Are the gentlemen in earnest?"

"Sirs, do you mean ever to fight again? Begin, begin."

But their enthusiasm waxed high after they had thoroughly comprehended
Paddy and his hair.

"You're alight, sir; you're alight!"

"Water! Water!"

"Farmer Pelton will have the officers at you an you go near his hay.
Water!"

Paddy understood that they were paying tribute to his importance, and
he again went suddenly out of my control. He began to strut and caper
and pose with the air of knowing that he was the finest gentleman in
England.

"Paddy, you baboon," said I, "be quiet and don't be making yourself a
laughing-stock for the whole of them."

But I could give small heed to him, for I was greatly occupied in
watching Lord Strepp and the Colonel. The Colonel was listening now
to his friend for the simple reason that the loss of blood had made
him too weak to fight again. Of a sudden he slumped gently down
through Lord Strepp's arms to the ground, and, as the young man knelt,
he cast his eyes about him until they rested upon me in what I took to
be mute appeal. I ran forward, and we quickly tore his fine ruffles to
pieces and succeeded in quite stanching his wounds, none of which were
serious. "'Tis only a little blood-letting," said my Lord Strepp with
something of a smile. "'Twill cool him, perchance."

"None of them are deep," I cried hastily. "I--"

But Lord Strepp stopped me with a swift gesture. "Yes," he said, "I
knew. I could see. But--" He looked at me with troubled eyes. "It is
an extraordinary situation. You have spared him, and--he will not wish
to be spared, I feel sure. Most remarkable case."

"Well, I won't kill him," said I bluntly, having tired of this
rubbish. "Damme if I will!"

Lord Strepp laughed outright. "It is ridiculous," he said. "Do you
return, O'Ruddy, and leave me the care of this business. And," added
he, with embarrassed manner, "this mixture is full strange; but--I
feel sure--any how, I salute you, sir." And in his bow he paid a
sensible tribute to my conduct.

Afterward there was nought to do but gather in Paddy and return to the
inn. I found my countryman swaggering to and fro before the crowd.
Some ignoramus, or some wit, had dubbed him the King of Ireland, and
he was playing to the part.

"Paddy, you red-headed scandal," said I, "come along now!"

When he heard me, he came well enough; but I could not help but feel
from his manner that he had made a great concession.

"And so they would be taking me for the King of Ireland, and, sure,
'tis an advantage to be thought a king whatever, and if your honour
would be easy 'tis you and me that would sleep in the finest beds in
Bristol the night, and nothing to do but take the drink as it was
handed and--I'll say no more."

A rabble followed us on our way to the inn, but I turned on them so
fiercely from time to time that ultimately they ran off. We made
direct for my chamber, where I ordered food and drink immediately to
be served. Once alone there with Paddy I allowed my joy to take hold
on me. "Eh, Paddy, my boy," said I, walking before him, "I have done
grand. I am, indeed, one of the finest gentlemen in the world."

"Aye, that's true," he answered, "but there was a man at your back
throughout who--"

To his extreme astonishment I buffeted him heavily upon the cheek.
"And we'll have no more of that talk," said I.




CHAPTER III


"Aye!" said Paddy, holding his jowl; "'tis what one gets for serving a
gentleman. 'Tis the service of a good truthful blackguard I'd be
looking for, and that's true for me."

"Be quiet and mind what I tell you," I cried to him. "I'm uplifted
with my success in England, and I won't be hearing anything from you
while I am saying that I am one of the grandest gentlemen in all the
world. I came over here with papers--papers!" said I; and then I
bethought me that I would take the papers and wave them in my hand. I
don't know why people wish to wave important documents in their hands,
but the impulse came to me. Above all things I wished to take these
papers and wave them defiantly, exultantly, in the air. They were my
inheritance and my land of promise; they were everything. I must wave
them even to the chamber, empty save for Paddy.

When I reached for them in the proper place in my luggage they were
gone. I wheeled like a tiger upon Paddy.

"Villain," I roared, grasping him at the throat, "you have them!"

He sank in full surrender to his knees.

"I have, your honour," he wailed; "but, sure, I never thought your
honour would care, since one of them is badly worn at the heel, and
the other is no better than no boot at all."

I was cooled by the incontestable verity of this man. I sat heavily
down in a chair by the fire.

"Aye," said I stupidly, "the boots! I did not mean the boots, although
when you took them passes my sense of time. I mean some papers."

"Some papers!" cried he excitedly. "Your honour never thought it would
be me that would steal papers? Nothing less than good cows would do my
people, and a bit of turf now and then, but papers--"

"Peace!" said I sombrely, and began to search my luggage thoroughly
for my missing inheritance. But it was all to no purpose. The papers
were not there. I could not have lost them. They had been stolen. I
saw my always-flimsy inheritance melt away. I had been, I thought, on
the edge of success, but I now had nothing but my name, a successful
duel, and a few pieces of gold. I was buried in defeat.

Of a sudden a name shot through my mind. The name of this black
Forister was upon me violently and yet with perfect sureness. It was
he who had stolen the papers. I knew it. I felt it in every bone. He
had taken the papers.

I have since been told that it is very common for people to be moved
by these feelings of omen, which are invariably correct in their
particulars; but at the time I thought it odd that I should be so
certain that Forister had my papers. However, I had no time to waste
in thinking. I grasped my pistols. "A black man--black as the devil,"
cried I to Paddy. "Help me catch a little black man."

"Sure!" said Paddy, and we sallied forth.

In a moment I was below and crying to the landlord in as fine a fury
as any noble:

"This villain Forister! And where be he?"

The landlord looked at me with bulging eyes. "Master Forister," he
stammered. "Aye--aye--he's been agone these many hours since your
lordship kicked him. He took horse, he did, for Bath, he did."

"Horses!" I roared. "Horses for two gentlemen!" And the stableyard,
very respectful since my duel, began to ring with cries. The landlord
pleaded something about his bill, and in my impatience I hurled to him
all of my gold save one piece. The horses came soon enough, and I
leaped into the saddle and was away to Bath after Forister. As I
galloped out of the inn yard I heard a tumult behind me, and, looking
back, I saw three hostlers lifting hard at Paddy to raise him into the
saddle. He gave a despairing cry when he perceived me leaving him at
such speed, but my heart was hardened to my work. I must catch
Forister.

It was a dark and angry morning. The rain swept across my face, and
the wind flourished my cloak. The road, glistening steel and brown,
was no better than an Irish bog for hard riding. Once I passed a
chaise with a flogging post-boy and steaming nags. Once I overtook a
farmer jogging somewhere on a fat mare. Otherwise I saw no travellers.

I was near my journey's end when I came to a portion of the road which
dipped down a steep hill. At the foot of this hill was an oak-tree,
and under this tree was a man masked and mounted, and in his hand was
a levelled pistol.

"Stand!" he said. "Stand!"

I knew his meaning, but when a man has lost a documentary fortune and
given an innkeeper all but his last guinea, he is sure to be filled
with fury at the appearance of a third and completing misfortune. With
a loud shout I drew my pistol and rode like a demon at the highwayman.
He fired, but his bullet struck nothing but the flying tails of my
cloak. As my horse crashed into him I struck at his pate with my
pistol. An instant later we both came a mighty downfall, and when I
could get my eyes free of stars I arose and drew my sword. The
highwayman sat before me on the ground, ruefully handling his skull.
Our two horses were scampering away into the mist.

I placed my point at the highwayman's throat.

"So, my fine fellow," cried I grandly, "you rob well. You are the
principal knight of the road of all England, I would dare say, by the
way in which an empty pistol overcomes you."

He was still ruefully handling his skull.

"Aye," he muttered sadly, more to himself than to me, "a true knight
of the road with seven ballads written of me in Bristol and three in
Bath. Ill betide me for not minding my mother's word and staying at
home this day. 'Tis all the unhappy luck of Jem Bottles. I should have
remained an honest sheep-stealer and never engaged in this dangerous
and nefarious game of lifting purses."

The man's genuine sorrow touched me. "Cheer up, Jem Bottles," said I.
"All may yet be well. 'Tis not one little bang on the crown that so
disturbs you?"

"'Tis not one--no," he answered gloomily; "'tis two. The traveller
riding to the east before you dealt me a similar blow--may hell catch
the little black devil."

"Black!" cried I. "Forister, for my life!"

"He took no moment to tell me his name," responded the sullen and
wounded highwayman. "He beat me out of the saddle and rode away as
brisk as a bird. I know not what my mother will say. She be for ever
telling me of the danger in this trade, and here come two gentlemen in
one day and unhorse me without the profit of a sixpence to my store.
When I became a highwayman I thought me I had profited me from the low
estate of a sheep-stealer, but now I see that happiness in this life
does not altogether depend upon--"

"Enough," I shouted in my impatience. "Tell me of the black man! The
black man, worm!" I pricked his throat with my sword very carefully.

"He was black, and he rode like a demon, and he handled his weapons
finely," said Jem Bottles. "And since I have told you all I know,
please, good sir, move the point from my throat. This will be ill news
for my mother."

I took thought with myself. I must on to Bath; but the two horses had
long since scampered out of sight, and my pursuit of the papers would
make small way afoot.

"Come, Jem Bottles," I cried, "help me to a horse in a comrade's way
and for the sake of your mother. In another case I will leave you here
a bloody corse. Come; there's a good fellow!"

He seemed moved to help me. "Now, if there comes a well-mounted
traveller," he said, brightening, "I will gain his horse for you if I
die for it."

"And if there comes no well-mounted traveller?"

"I know not, sir. But--perhaps he will come."

"'Tis a cheap rogue who has but one horse," I observed contemptuously.
"You are only a footpad, a simple-minded marquis of the bludgeon."

Now, as I had hoped, this deeply cut his pride.

"Did I not speak of the ballads, sir?" he demanded with considerable
spirit. "Horses? Aye, and have I not three good nags hid behind my
mother's cottage, which is less than a mile from this spot?"

"Monsieur Jem Bottles," said I, not forgetting the French manners
which my father had taught me, "unless you instantly show me the way
to these horses I shall cut off your hands, your feet, and your head;
and, ripping out your bowels, shall sprinkle them on the road for the
first post-horses to mash and trample. Do you understand my intention,
Monsieur Jem Bottles?"

"Sir," he begged, "think of my mother!"

"I think of the horses," I answered grimly. "'Tis for you to think of
your mother. How could I think of your mother when I wouldn't know her
from the Head of Kinsale, if it didn't happen that I know the Head of
Kinsale too well to mistake it for anybody's mother?"

"You speak like a man from foreign parts, sir," he rejoined in a meek
voice; "but I am able to see that your meaning is serious."

"'Tis so serious," said I, rapping him gently on the head with the
butt of my pistol, "that if you don't instantly display a greedy
activity you will display a perfect inability to move."

"The speeching is obscure," said he, "but the rap on the head is
clear to me. Still, it was not kind of you to hit me on the same spot
twice."

He now arose from his mournful seat on the ground, and, still rubbing
his pate, he asked me to follow him. We moved from the highway into a
very narrow lane, and for some time proceeded in silence.

"'Tis a regular dog's life," spoke Jem Bottles after a period of
reflection.

By this time I had grown a strong sympathy for my scoundrel.

"Come, cheer yourself, Jem Bottles," said I. "I have known a lesser
ruffian who was hanged until he was dry, whereas you march along the
lane with nought to your discouragement but three cracks in your
crown."

"'Tis not the cracks in the crown," he answered moodily. "'Tis what my
mother will say."

"I had no thought that highwaymen had mothers," said I. I had resolved
now to take care of his pride, for I saw that he was bound to be
considered a great highwayman, and I did not wish to disturb his
feelings until I gained possession of one of the horses. But now he
grew as indignant as he dared.

"Mother? Mother, sir? Do you think me an illegitimate child? I say to
you flat in your face, even if you kill me the next instant, that I
have a mother. Perchance I am not of the lofty gentry who go about
beating honest highwaymen to the earth, but I repulse with scorn any
man's suggestion that I am illegitimate. In a quarter of an hour you
shall see my mother for yourself."

"Peace, Jem Bottles," said I soothingly. "I took no thought of such a
thing. I would be thinking only of the ballads, and how honourable it
is that a gallant and dashing life should be celebrated in song. I,
for certain, have never done anything to make a pothouse ring with my
name, and I liken you to the knights of olden days who tilted in all
simple fair bravery without being able to wager a brass farthing as to
who was right and who was wrong. Admirable Jem Bottles," I cried
enthusiastically, "tell me, if you will, of your glories; tell me with
your own tongue, so that when I hear the ballads waxing furious with
praise of you, I shall recall the time I marched with your historic
person."

"My beginning was without pretence," said the highwayman. "Little
Susan, daughter of Farmer Hants, was crossing the fields with a basket
of eggs. I, a masked figure, sprang out at her from a thicket. I
seized the basket. She screamed. There was a frightful tumult. But in
the end I bore away this basket of eight eggs, creeping stealthily
through the wood. The next day Farmer Hants met me. He had a long
whip. There was a frightful tumult. But he little knew that he was
laying with his whip the foundation of a career so illustrious. For a
time I stole his sheep, but soon grew weary of this business. Once,
after they had chased me almost to Bristol, I was so weary that I
resolved to forego the thing entirely. Then I became a highwayman,
whom you see before you. One of the ballads begins thus:

    "What ho! the merry Jem!
    Not a pint he gives for them.
    All his--"

"Stop," said I, "we'll have it at Dame Bottles's fireside. Hearing
songs in the night air always makes me hoarse the next morning."

"As you will," he answered without heat. "We're a'most there."

Soon a lighted window of the highwayman's humble home shone out in the
darkness, and a moment later Jem Bottles was knocking at the door. It
was immediately opened, and he stalked in with his blood-marks still
upon his face. There was a great outcry in a feminine voice, and a
large woman rushed forward and flung her arms about the highwayman.

"Oh, Jemmie, my son, my son!" she screamed, "whatever have they done
to ye this time?"

"Silence, mother dear," said Bottles. "'Tis nought but a wind-broken
bough fallen on my head. Have you no manners? Do you not see the
gentleman waiting to enter and warm himself?"

The woman turned upon me, alarmed, but fiery and defiant. After a
moment's scrutiny she demanded:

"Oh, ho, and the gentleman had nought to do of course with my Jem's
broken head?"

"'Tis a priest but newly arrived from his native island of Asia," said
Bottles piously; "and it ill beseems you, mother dear, to be haggling
when you might be getting the holy man and I some supper."

"True, Jemmie, my own," responded Dame Bottles. "But there are so many
rogues abroad that you must forgive your old mother if she grow often
affrighted that her good Jemmie has been misled." She turned to me.
"Pardon, my good gentleman," she said almost in tears. "Ye little know
what it is to be the mother of a high-spirited boy."

"I can truthfully say that I do not, Dame Bottles," said I, with one
of my father's French bows. She was immensely pleased. Any woman may
fall a victim to a limber, manly, and courteous bow.

Presently we sat down to a supper of plum-stew and bread. Bottles had
washed the blood from his face and now resembled an honest man.

"You may think it strange, sir," said Dame Bottles with some
housewifely embarrassment, "that a highwayman of such distinction that
he has had written of him in Bristol six ballads--"

"Seven," said the highwayman.

"Seven in Bristol and in Bath two."

"Three," said the highwayman.

"And three in Bath," continued the old woman. "You may think it
strange, sir, that a highwayman of such distinction that he has had
written of him in Bristol seven ballads, and in Bath three, is yet
obliged to sit down to a supper of plum-stew and bread."

"Where is the rest of that cheese I took on last Michaelmas?" demanded
Bottles suddenly.

"Jemmie," answered his mother with reproach, "you know you gave the
last of it to the crippled shepherd over on the big hill."

"So I did, mother dear," assented the highwayman, "and I regret now
that I let no less than three cheeses pass me on the highway because I
thought we had plenty at home."

"If you let anything pass on the road because you do not lack it at
the moment, you will ultimately die of starvation, Jemmie dear," quoth
the mother. "How often have I told you?"

"Aye," he answered somewhat irritably, "you also often have told me to
take snuff-boxes."

"And was I at fault," she retorted, "because the cheating avarice of
the merchants led them to make sinful, paltry snuff-boxes that were
mere pictures of the good old gold and silver? Was it my mischief? Or
was it the mischief of the plotting swineherds who now find it to
their interest to deal in base and imitative metals?"

"Peace, my mother," said the highwayman. "The gentleman here has not
the same interest in snuff-boxes which moves us to loud speech."

"True," said Dame Bottles, "and I readily wish that my Jemmie had no
reason to care if snuff-boxes were made from cabbage-leaves."

I had been turning a scheme in my mind, and here I thought I saw my
opportunity to introduce it. "Dame Bottles," said I, "your words fit
well with the plan which has brought me here to your house. Know you,
then, that I am a nobleman--"

"Alack, poor Jemmie!" cried the woman, raising her hands.

"No," said I, "I am not a nobleman rampant. I am a nobleman in
trouble, and I need the services of your son, for which I will reward
him with such richness that he will not care if they make snuff-boxes
out of water or wind. I am in pursuit of a man--"

"The little black man," cried the alert Bottles.

"And I want your son to ride with me to catch this thief. He need
never pass through the shadow of the creeping, clanking tree. He will
be on an honest hunt to recover a great property. Give him to me. Give
him fourteen guineas from his store, and bid us mount his horses and
away. Save your son!"

The old woman burst into tears. "Sir," she answered, "I know little of
you, but, as near as I can see in the light of this one candle, you
are a hangel. Take my boy! Treat him as you would your own stepson,
and if snuff-boxes ever get better I will let you both hear of it."

Less than an hour later Jem Bottles and I were off for Bath, riding
two very good horses.




CHAPTER IV


Now my whole mind was really bent on finding my black Forister, but
yet, as Jem Bottles and I rode toward Bath, I thought of a cloaked
figure and a pair of shining eyes, and it seemed to me that I recalled
the curve of sweet, proud lips. I knew that I should be thinking of my
papers, my future; but a quick perversity made me dwell for a long
trotting time in a dream of feminine excellence, in a dream of
feminine beauty which was both ascetic and deeply sensuous. I know
hardly how to say that two eyes, a vision of lips, a conception of a
figure, should properly move me as I bounced along the road with Jem
Bottles. But it is certain that it came upon me. The eyes of the
daughter of the great Earl of Westport had put in chains the
redoubtable O'Ruddy. It was true. It was clear. I admitted it to
myself. The admission caused a number of reflections to occur in my
mind, and the chief of these was that I was a misfortunate wretch.

Jem Bottles recalled me to the immediate business.

"'Tis the lights of Bath, sir," he said, "and if it please you, sir, I
shall await you under yonder tree, since the wretched balladists have
rendered me so well known in the town that I dare not venture in it
for fear of a popular welcome from the people who have no snuff-boxes
whatever."

"I will go and listen to the ballads," I replied, "and in the mean
time do you await me here under that tree."

So saying I galloped into Bath, my soul sharp to find Forister and to
take him by the neck and strangle out of him those papers which were
my sole reasons for living. But the landlord of the best inn met me
with an unmistakable frankness.

"Mr. Forister?" said he. "Yes, your lordship, but Mr. Forister is gone
back to Bristol."

I was so pleased with his calling me "your lordship" that I hesitated
a moment. But I was recalled to sense by the thought that although Jem
Bottles and I had fifteen guineas between us, he had fourteen and I
had the one. Thanking the landlord I galloped out of Bath.

Bottles was awaiting me under the tree. "To Bristol," I cried. "Our
chase lies toward Bristol. He has doubled back."

"'Twas while we were at supper," said Bottles, as he cantered up to my
shoulder. "I might have had two trials at him if I had not had the
honour of meeting your worship. I warrant you, sir, he would not have
escaped me twice."

"Think of his crack in your skull, and be content," I replied. "And in
the mean time ride for Bristol."

Within five miles of Bristol we came upon a wayside inn in which there
was progressing a great commotion. Lights flashed from window to
window, and we could hear women howling. To my great surprise Bottles
at once became hugely excited.

"Damme, sir," he shouted, "my sweetheart is a chambermaid here, and if
she be hurted I will know it."

He spurred valiantly forward, and, after futilely calling to him to
check his career, I followed. He leaped from his horse at the door of
the inn and bounced into the place, pistol in hand. I was too confused
to understand much, but it seemed to my ears that his entrance was
hailed with a roar of relief and joy. A stable-boy, fearfully anxious,
grasped my bridle, crying, "Go in, sir, in God's name. They will be
killing each other." Thinking that, whatever betide, it was proper to
be at the back of my friend Bottles, I too sprang from my horse and
popped into the inn.

A more unexpected sight never met my experienced gaze. A fat landlady,
mark you, was sobbing in the arms of my villainous friend, and a
pretty maid was clinging to his arm and screaming. At the same time
there were about him a dozen people of both sexes who were yelling,--

"Oh, pray, Master Bottles! Good Master Bottles, do stop them. One is a
great Afric chief, red as a fire, and the other is Satan, Satan
himself! Oh, pray, good Master Bottles, stop them!"

My fine highwayman was puffed out like a poisoned frog. I had no
thought that he could be so grand.

"What is this disturbance?" he demanded in a bass voice.

"O good Master Bottles," clamoured the people. "Satan wishes to kill
the Red Giant, who has Satan barred in the best room in the inn. And
they make frightful destruction of chairs and tables. Bid them cease,
O good Master Bottles!"

From overhead we could hear the sound of blows upon wood mingled with
threatening talk.

"Stand aside," said the highwayman in a great gruff voice which made
me marvel at him. He unhesitatingly dumped the swooning form of the
landlady into another pair of arms, shook off the pretty maid, and
moved sublimely upon the foot of the stairs amid exclamations of joy,
wonder, admiration, even reverence.

But the voice of an unseen person hailed suddenly from the head of the
stairs.

"And if ye have not said enough masses for your heathen soul,"
remarked the voice, "you would be better mustering the neighbours this
instant to go to church for you and bid them do the best they can in a
short time. You will never be coming downstairs if you once come up."

Bottles hesitated; the company shuddered out: "'Tis the Red Giant."

"And I would be having one more word with you," continued the unseen
person. "I have him here, and here I keep him. 'Tis not me that wants
the little black rogue, what with his hammering on the door and his
calling me out of my name. 'Tis no work that I like, and I would lever
go in and put my heel in his face. But I was told to catch a little
black man, and I have him, and him I will keep. 'Tis not me that
wished to come here and catch little black men for anybody; but here I
am in this foreign country, catching little black men, and I will have
no interference."

But here I gave a great call of recognition.

"Paddy!"

I saw the whole thing. This wild-headed Paddy, whom I had told to
catch me a little black man, had followed after me toward Bath and
somehow managed to barricade in a room the very first man he saw who
was small and black. At first I wished to laugh; an instant later I
was furious.

"Paddy," I thundered; "come down out of that now! What would you be
doing? Come down out of that now!"

The reply was sulky, but unmistakably from Paddy. Most of it was
mumbled.

"Sure I've gone and caught as little and as black a man as is in the
whole world, and was keeping the scoundrel here safe, and along he
comes and tells me to come down out of that now with no more gratitude
than if he had given me a gold goose. And yet I fought a duel for him
and managed everything so finely that he came away well enough to box
me on the ear, which was mere hilarity and means nothing between
friends."

Jem Bottles was still halted on the stair. He and all the others had
listened to Paddy's speeches in a blank amazement which had much
superstition in it.

"Shall I go up, sir?" he asked, not eagerly.

"No," said I. "Leave me to deal with it. I fear a great mistake. Give
me ten minutes, and I promise to empty the inn of all uproar."

A murmur of admiration arose, and as the sound leaped about my ears I
moved casually and indifferently up against Paddy. It was a grand
scene.

"Paddy," I whispered as soon as I had reached a place on the stairs
safe from the ears of the people below. "Paddy, you have made a great
blunder. You have the wrong man."

"'Tis unlikely," replied Paddy with scorn. "You wait until you see
him, and if he is not little and black, then--"

"Yes, yes," said I hastily, "but it was not any little black man at
all which I wanted. It was a particular little black man."

"But," said the ruffian brightly, "it would be possible this one will
serve your end. He's little and he's black."

At this moment the voice of the captive came intoning through the door
of a chamber.

"When I am free I will first cut out your liver and have it grilled,
and feed it to you as you are dying."

Paddy had stepped forward and placed his lips within about six inches
of one of the panels.

"Come now, be easy!" he said. "You know well that if you should do as
you say, I would beat your head that it would have the looks of a
pudding fallen from a high window, and that's the truth."

"Open the door, rascal," called the captive, "and we shall see."

"I will be opening no doors," retorted Paddy indignantly. "Remain
quiet, you little black devil, or, by the mass, I'll--"

"I'll slice your heart into pieces of paper," thundered Paddy's
prisoner, kicking and pounding.

By this time I was ready to interfere. "Paddy," said I, catching him
by the shoulder, "you have the wrong man. Leave it to me; mind you,
leave it to me."

"He's that small and black you'd think--" he began dejectedly, but I
cut him short.

Jem Bottles, unable to endure the suspense, had come up from below.
He was still bristling and blustering, as if all the maids were
remarking him.

"And why does this fine gentleman kick and pound on the door?" he
demanded in a gruff voice loud enough to be heard in all appreciative
parts of the inn. "I'll have him out and slit his nose."

The thunder on the door ceased, and the captive observed:

"Ha! another scoundrel! If my ears do not play me false, there are now
three waiting for me to kick them to the hangman."

Restraining Paddy and Bottles, who each wished to reply in heroic
verse to this sally, I stepped to the door.

"Sir," said I civilly, "I fear a great blunder has been done. I--"

"Why," said the captive with a sneer, "'tis the Irishman! 'Tis the
king of the Irelands. Open the door, pig."

My elation knew no bounds.

"Paddy," cried I, "you have the right little black man." But there was
no time for celebration. I must first answer my enemy. "You will
remember that I kicked you once," said I, "and if you have a memory as
long as my finger be careful I do not kick you again, else even people
as far away as the French will think you are a meteor. But I would not
be bandying words at long range. Paddy, unbar the door."

"If I can," muttered Paddy, fumbling with a lot of machinery so
ingenious that it would require a great lack of knowledge to
thoroughly understand it. In the mean time we could hear Forister move
away from the door, and by the sound of a leisurely scrape of a chair
on the floor I judge he had taken his seat somewhere near the centre
of the room. Bottles was handling his pistol and regarding me.

"Yes," said I, "if he fires, do you pepper him fairly. Otherwise await
my orders. Paddy, you slug, unbar the door."

"If I am able," said Paddy, still muttering and fumbling with his
contrivances. He had no sooner mouthed the words than the door flew
open as if by magic, and we discovered a room bright with the light of
a fire and candles. Forister was seated negligently at a table in the
centre of the room. His legs were crossed, but his naked sword lay on
the table at his hand. He had the first word, because I was amazed,
almost stunned, by the precipitous opening of the door.

"Ho! ho!" he observed frigidly, "'tis indeed the king of the Irelands,
accompanied by the red-headed duke who has entertained me for some
time, and a third party with a thief's face who handles a loaded
pistol with such abandon as leads me to suppose that he once may have
been a highwayman. A very pretty band."

"Use your tongue for a garter, Forister," said I. "I want my papers."




CHAPTER V


"Your 'papers'?" said Forister. "Damn you and your papers. What would
I know of your papers?"

"I mean," said I fiercely, "the papers that you stole out of my
chamber in the inn at Bristol."

The man actually sank back in his chair and laughed me up to the roof.

"'Papers'!" he shouted. "Here's the king of the Irelands thinking that
I have made off with his papers!"

"You choose a good time for laughing," said I, with more sobriety. "In
a short time you will be laughing with the back of your head."

He sat up and looked at me with quick decision.

"Now, what is all this rubbish about papers?" he said sharply. "What
have I to do with your filthy papers? I had one intention regarding
you,--of that I am certain. I was resolved to kill you on the first
occasion when we could cross swords, but--'papers'--faugh! What do you
mean?"

The hoarse voice of Jem Bottles broke in from somewhere behind me. "We
might easily throw him to the earth and tie him, sir, and then make
search of him."

"And you would know how to go about the business, I warrant me,"
laughed Forister. "You muzzle-faced rogue, you!"

To my astonishment the redoubtable highwayman gave back before the
easy disdain of this superior scoundrel.

"My ways may not always have been straight and narrow, master," he
rejoined, almost in a whine, "but you have no call to name me
muzzle-faced."

Forister turned from him contemptuously and fixed his regard with much
enthusiasm upon Paddy.

"Very red," said he. "Very red, indeed. And thick as fagots, too. A
very delectable head of hair, fit to be spun into a thousand blankets
for the naked savages in heathen parts. The wild forests in Ireland
must indeed be dark when it requires a lantern of this measure to
light the lonely traveller on his way."

But Paddy was an honest man even if he did not know it, and he at once
walked to Forister and held against his ear a fist the size of a pig's
hind-leg.

"I cannot throw the talk back to you," he said. "You are too fast for
me, but I tell you to your face that you had better change your tongue
for a lock of an old witch's hair unless you intend to be battered
this moment."

"Peace," said Forister calmly. "I am a man of natural wit, and I would
entertain myself. Now, there is your excellent chieftain the king of
the Irelands. Him I regard as a very good specimen, whose ancestors
were not very long ago swinging by their tails from the lofty palms of
Ireland and playing with cocoanuts to and fro." He smiled and leaned
back, well satisfied with himself.

All this time I had been silent, because I had been deep in reflection
upon Forister. Now I said:

"Forister, you are a great rogue. I know you. One thing is certain.
You have not my papers and never did you have them."

He looked upon me with some admiration and cried:

"Aye, the cannibal shows a glimmer of reason. No, I have not your
foolish papers, and I only wish I had them in order to hurl the bundle
at your damned stupid head."

"For a kicked man you have a gay spirit," I replied. "But at any rate
I have no time for you now. I am off to Bristol after my papers, and I
only wish for the sake of ease that I had to go no farther than this
chamber. Come, Paddy! Come, Jem!"

My two henchmen were manifestly disappointed; they turned reluctantly
at my word.

"Have I the leave of one crack at him, your honour?" whispered Paddy
earnestly. "He said my head was a lantern."

"No," said I, "leave him to his meditations."

As we passed down the corridor we heard him laugh loudly, and he
called out to me,--

"When I come to Bristol I will kill you."

I had more than a mind to go back and stuff this threat into his
throat, but I better knew my business, which was to recover the
papers.

"Come," said I, and we passed down stairs.

The people of the inn made way for Paddy as if he had been a falling
tree, and at the same time they worshipped Jem Bottles for having
performed everything. I had some wonder as to which would be able to
out-strut the other. I think Jem Bottles won the match, for he had the
advantage of being known as one of the most dangerous men in
southwestern England, whereas Paddy had only his vanity to help him.

"'Tis all arranged," said Bottles pompously. "Your devil will come
forth as quiet as a rabbit."

We ordered our horses, and a small crowd of obsequious stable-boys
rushed to fetch them. I marvelled when I saw them lead out Paddy's
horse. I had thought from what I perceived over my shoulder when I
left Bristol that he would never be able to make half a league in the
saddle. Amid the flicker of lanterns, Bottles and I mounted and then I
heard Paddy calling to him all the stable-boys:

"Now, when I give the word, you heave for your lives. Stand, you
beast! Cannot four of you hold him by the legs? I will be giving the
word in a moment. Are you all ready? Well, now, ready again--heave!"

There was a short scuffle in the darkness, and presently Paddy
appeared above the heads of the others in the _mêlée_.

"There, now," said he to them, "that was well done. One would easily
be telling that I was an ex-trooper of the king." He rode out to us
complacently. "'Tis a good horse, if only he steered with a tiller
instead of these straps," he remarked, "and he goes well before the
wind."

"To Bristol," said I. "Paddy, you must follow as best you may. I have
no time to be watching you, although you are interesting."

An unhappy cry came from behind Bottles, and I spurred on, but again I
could not wait for my faithful countryman. My papers were still the
stake for which I played. However I hoped that Paddy would now give
over his ideas about catching little black men.

As we neared Bristol Jem Bottles once more became backward. He
referred to the seven ballads, and feared that the unexpected presence
of such a well-known character would create an excitement which would
not be easy to cool. So we made a rendezvous under another tree, and I
rode on alone. Thus I was separated from both my good companions.
However, before parting, I took occasion to borrow five guineas from
Jem's store.

I was as weary as a dog, although I had never been told that gentlemen
riding amid such adventures were ever aweary. At the inn in Bristol a
sleepy boy took my horse, and a sleepy landlord aroused himself as he
recognized me.

"My poor inn is at your disposal, sir," he cried as he bowed. "The
Earl has inquired for you to-day, or yesterday, as well as my young
Lord Strepp and Colonel Royale."

"Aye?" said I carelessly. "Did they so? Show me to a chamber. I am
much enwearied. I would seek a good bed and a sound sleep, for I have
ridden far and done much since last I had repose."

"Yes, sir," said the landlord deferentially.

After a long hard sleep I was aroused by a constant pounding on my
door. At my cry a servant entered. He was very abject. "His lordship's
valet has been waiting to give you a message from his lordship, sir."
I bid him let the valet enter. The man whose heroic nose had borne the
brunt of Forister's swift departure from the inn when I kicked him
came into my chamber with distinguished grace and dignity and informed
me that his noble master cared to see me in his chamber when it would
suit my convenience.

Of course the old Earl was after his papers. And what was I to tell
him,--that I was all befooled and befuddled?--that after my father had
kept these papers for so many years in faithful trust I had lost them
on the very brink of deliverance of them to their rightful owner? What
was I to speak?

I did not wish to see the Earl of Westport, but some sudden and
curious courage forced me into my clothes and out to the corridor. The
Earl's valet was waiting there. "I pray you, sir, follow me," he said.
I followed him to an expensive part of the inn, where he knocked upon
a door. It was opened by a bending serving-man. The room was a kind of
parlour, and in it, to my surprise, were Lord Strepp and Colonel
Royale. They gazed at me with a surprise equivalent to mine own.

Young Lord Strepp was the first one thoroughly to collect himself.
Then he advanced upon me with outstretched hand.

"Mr. O'Ruddy," he cried, "believe me, we are glad to see you. We
thought you had gone for all time."

Colonel Royale was only a moment behind his friend, but as he extended
his hand his face flushed painfully.

"Sir," he said somewhat formally, "not long ago I lost my temper, I
fear. I know I have to thank you for great consideration and
generosity. I--I--you--"

Whereupon we both began to stammer and grimace. All the time I was
chocking out:

"Pray--pray--, don't speak of it--a--nothing--in truth, you kindly
exaggerate--I--"

It was young Lord Strepp who brought us out of our embarrassment.
"Here, you two good fellows," he cried heartily, "a glass of wine with
you."

We looked gratefully at him, and in the business of filling our
glasses we lost our awkwardness. "To you," said Lord Strepp; and as we
drained our wine I knew that I had two more friends in England.

During the drinking the Earl's valet had been hovering near my
coat-tails. Afterward he took occasion to make gentle suggestion to
me:

"His lordship awaits your presence in his chamber, sir, when it
pleases you."

The other gentlemen immediately deferred to my obligation, and I
followed the valet into a large darkened chamber. It was some moments
before my eyes could discover that the Earl was abed. Indeed, a
rasping voice from beneath the canopies called to me before I knew
that anybody was in the chamber but myself and the valet.

"Come hither, O'Ruddy," called the Earl. "Tompkins, get out! Is it
your duty to stand there mummified? Get out!"

The servant hastily withdrew, and I walked slowly to the great man's
bedside. Two shining shrewd eyes looked at me from a mass of pillows,
and I had a knowledge of an aged face, half smiling and yet satirical,
even malignant.

"And so this is the young fortune-hunter from Ireland," he said in a
hoarse sick-man's voice. "The young fortune-hunter! Ha! With his
worthless papers! Ha!"

"Worthless?" cried I, starting.

"Worthless!" cried the Earl vehemently. He tried to lift himself in
his bed, in order to make more emphasis. "Worthless! Nothing but
straw--straw--straw!" Then he cackled out a laugh.

And this was my inheritance! I could have sobbed my grief and anger,
but I took firm hold on myself and resolved upon another way of
dealing with the nobleman.

"My lord," said I coolly, "My father is dead. When he was dying he
gave certain papers into my hands,--papers which he had guarded for
many years,--and bade me, as his son, to deliver them into the hands
of an old friend and comrade; and I come to this old friend and
comrade of my father, and he lies back in his bed and cackles at me
like a hen. 'Tis a small foot I would have set upon England if I had
known more of you, you old skate!"

But still he laughed and cried: "Straw! Straw! Nothing but straw!"

"Well, sir," said I with icy dignity, "I may be a fool of an Irishman
with no title save an older one than yours; but I would be deeply
sorry if there came a day when I should throw a trust back in the
teeth of a dead comrade's son."

"No," said the bright-eyed old man, comforting himself amid his
pillows. "Look you, O'Ruddy! You are a rascal! You came over in an
attempt to ruin me! I know it!"

I was awed by this accusation. It seemed to me to be too grand, too
gorgeous for my personal consumption. I knew not what to do with this
colossus. It towered above me in splendour and gilt. I had never
expected to be challenged with attempting to ruin earls. My father had
often ruined sea-captains, but he never in his life ruined so much as
a baronet. It seemed altogether too fine for my family, but I could
only blurt weakly, "Yessir." I was much like a lackey.

"Aye," said the old man, suddenly feeble from the excitement, "I see
you admit it, you black Irish rogue." He sank back and applied a
napkin to his mouth. It seemed to come away stained with blood. "You
scoundrel!"

I had a strange cowardly inclination to fling myself upon this ancient
survival and squeeze his throat until it closed like a pursel. And my
inclination was so strong that I stood like a stone.

The valet opened the door. "If it please your Lordship--Lady Mary," he
announced, and stood aside to let a lady pass. The Earl seemed
immediately to forget my presence. He began at once to make himself
uncomfortable in his bed. Then he cried fretfully: "Come, Mary, what
caused you to be so long? Make me easy! Ruffle my pillows! Come,
daughter."

"Yes, father," answered a soothing and sweet voice. A gracious figure
passed before me and bended over the bed of the Earl. I was near
blinded. It was not a natural blindness. It was an artificial
blindness which came from my emotion. Was she tall? I don't know. Was
she short? I don't know. But I am certain that she was exactly of the
right size. She was, in all ways, perfection. She was of such glory,
she was so splendid, that my heart ceased to beat. I remained standing
like a stone, but my sword scabbard, reminiscent of some movement,
flapped gently against my leg. I thought it was a horrible sound. I
sought to stay it, but it continued to tinkle, and I remember that,
standing there in the room with the old Earl and my love-'til-death, I
thought most of my scabbard and its inability to lay quiet at my
thigh.

She smoothed his bed and coaxed him and comforted him. Never had I
seen such tenderness. It was like a vision of a classic hereafter. In
a second I would have exchanged my youth for the position of this
doddering old nobleman who spat blood into a napkin.

Suddenly the Earl wheeled his eyes and saw me.

"Ha, Mary!" he cried feebly, "I wish to point out a rogue. There he
stands! The O'Ruddy! An Irishman and a fine robber! Mark him well, and
keep stern watch of your jewels."

The beautiful young lady turned upon me an affrighted glance. And I
stood like a stone.

"Aye," said the old wretch, "keep stern watch of your jewels. He is a
very demon for skill. He could take a ring from your finger while you
were thinking he was fluttering his hands in the air."

I bowed gallantly to the young lady. "Your rings are safe, my lady. I
would ill requite the kindness shown by your father to the son of an
old friend if I deprived your white fingers of a single ornament."

"Clever as ever, clever as ever," chuckled the wicked old man.

The young lady flushed and looked first at me and then at her father.
I thought her eye, as it rested upon me, was not without some
sympathetic feeling. I adored her. All the same I wished to kill her
father. It is very curious when one wishes to kill the father of the
woman one adores. But I suppose the situation was made more possible
for me by the fact that it would have been extremely inexpedient to
have killed the Earl in his sick bed. I even grinned at him.

"If you remember my father, your lordship," said I amiably, "despite
your trying hard to forget him, you will remember that he had a
certain native wit which on occasion led him to be able to frustrate
his enemies. It must have been a family trait, for I seem to have it.
You are an evil old man! You yourself stole my papers!"




CHAPTER VI


At first I thought that my speech had given the aged Earl a stroke. He
writhed on his bed, and something appeared at his lips which was like
froth. His lovely daughter sprang to him with a cry of fear and woe.
But he was not dying; he was only mad with rage.

"How dare you? How dare you?" he gasped. "You whelp of Satan!"

"'Tis me that would not be fearing to dare anything," I rejoined
calmly. "I would not so. I came here with a mind for fair words, but
you have met me with insult and something worse. We cannot talk the
thing. We must act it. The papers are yours, but you took them from me
unfairly. You may destroy them. Otherwise I will have them back and
discover what turned you into a great rogue near the end of your
days."

"Hearken!" screamed the Earl. "Hearken! He threatens." The door into
the parlour flew open, and Lord Strepp and Colonel Royale appeared on
the threshold, their faces blank with wonder.

"Father," cried the young lord, stepping hastily forward, "whatever is
wrong?"

"That!" screamed the Earl, pointing a palsied finger at me. "That! He
comes here and threatens _me_,--a peer of England."

The Lady Mary spoke swiftly to her brother and the Colonel.

"'Tis a sick man's fancy," she said. "There have been no threats.
Father has had a bad day. He is not himself. He talks wildly. He--"

"Mary!" yelled the Earl as well as he was able. "Do you betray me? Do
you betray your own father? Oh, a woman Judas and my daughter!"

Lord Strepp and Colonel Royale looked as if their minds were coming
apart. They stared at Lady Mary, at the Earl, at me. For my part I
remained silent and stiff in a corner, keeping my eye upon the swords
of the other gentlemen. I had no doubt but that presently I would be
engaged in a desperate attempt to preserve my life. Lady Mary was
weeping. She had never once glanced in my direction. But I was
thrilling with happiness. She had flung me her feeble intercession
even as a lady may fling a bun to a bear in a pit, but I had the
remembrance to prize, to treasure, and if both gentlemen had set upon
me and the sick Earl had advanced with the warming-pan I believe my
new strength would have been able to beat them off.

In the meantime the Earl was screeching meaningless rubbish in which
my name, with epithets, occurred constantly. Lady Mary, still weeping,
was trying to calm him.

Young Lord Strepp at last seemed to make up his mind. He approached me
and remarked:

"An inexplicable situation, Mr. O'Ruddy."

"More to me than to you," I repeated suavely.

"How?" he asked, with less consideration in his manner. "I know nought
of this mummery."

"At least I know no more," I replied, still suave.

"How, Mr. O'Ruddy?" he asked, frowning. "I enter and find you
wrangling with my father in his sick chamber. Is there to be no word
for this?"

"I dare say you will get forty from your father; a hundred, it may
be," said I, always pleasant. "But from me you will get none."

He reflected for a moment. "I dare say you understand I will brook no
high-handed silence in a matter of this kind. I am accustomed to ask
for the reasons for certain kinds of conduct, and of course I am
somewhat prepared to see that the reasons are forthcoming."

"Well, in this case, my lord," said I with a smile, "you can accustom
yourself to not getting a reason for a certain kind of conduct,
because I do not intend to explain myself."

But at this moment our agreeable conversation was interrupted by the
old Earl who began to bay at his son. "Arthur, Arthur, fling the
rascal out; fling the rascal out! He is an impostor, a thief!" He
began to fume and sputter, and threw his arms wildly; he was in some
kind of convulsion; his pillows tossed, and suddenly a packet fell
from under them to the floor. As all eyes wheeled toward it, I stooped
swiftly and picked it up.

"My papers!" said I.

On their part there was a breathless moment of indecision. Then the
swords of Lord Strepp and the Colonel came wildly from their
scabbards. Mine was whipped out no less speedily, but I took it and
flung it on the floor at their feet, the hilt toward them. "No," said
I, my hands empty save for the papers, "'tis only that I would be
making a present to the fair Lady Mary, which I pray her to receive."
With my best Irish bow I extended to the young lady the papers, my
inheritance, which had caused her father so much foaming at the mouth.

She looked at me scornfully, she looked at her father, she looked at
me pathetically, she looked at her father, she looked at me piteously;
she took the papers.

I walked to the lowering and abashed points of the other men's swords,
and picked my blade from the floor. I paid no heed to the glittering
points which flashed near my eyes. I strode to the door; I turned and
bowed; as I did so, I believe I saw something in Lady Mary's eyes
which I wished to see there. I closed the door behind me.

But immediately there was a great clamour in the room I had left, and
the door was thrown violently open again. Colonel Royale appeared in a
high passion:

"No, no, O'Ruddy," he shouted, "you are a gallant gentleman. I would
stake my life that you are in the right. Say the word, and I will back
you to the end against ten thousand fiends."

And after him came tempestuously young Lord Strepp, white on the lips
with pure rage. But he spoke with a sudden steadiness.

"Colonel Royale, it appears," he said, "thinks he has to protect my
friend The O'Ruddy from some wrong of my family or of mine?"

The Colonel drew in his breath for a dangerous reply, but I quickly
broke in:

"Come, come, gentlemen," said I sharply. "Are swords to flash between
friends when there are so many damned scoundrels in the world to parry
and pink? 'Tis wrong; 'tis very wrong. Now, mark you, let us be men of
peace at least until to-morrow morning, when, by the way, I have to
fight your friend Forister."

"Forister!" they cried together. Their jaws fell; their eyes bulged;
they forgot everything; there was a silence.

"Well," said I, wishing to reassure them, "it may not be to-morrow
morning. He only told me that he would kill me as soon as he came to
Bristol, and I expect him to-night or in the morning. I would of
course be expecting him to show here as quickly as possible after his
grand speech; but he would not be entirely unwelcome, I am thinking,
for I have a mind to see if the sword of an honest man, but no
fighter, would be able to put this rogue to shame, and him with all
his high talk about killing people who have never done a thing in life
to him but kick him some number of feet out into the inn yard, and
this need never to have happened if he had known enough to have kept
his sense of humour to himself, which often happens in this world."

Reflectively, Colonel Royale murmured:

"One of the finest swordsmen in England."

For this I cared nothing.

Reflectively, Lord Strepp murmured: "My father's partner in the
shipping trade."

This last made me open my eyes. "Your father's partner in the shipping
trade, Lord Strepp? That little black rascal?"

The young nobleman looked sheepish.

"Aye, I doubt not he may well be called a little black rascal,
O'Ruddy," he answered; "but in fact he is my father's partner in
certain large--fairly large, you know--shipping interests. Of course
that is a matter of no consequence to me personally--but--I believe my
father likes him, and my mother and my sister are quite fond of him, I
think. I, myself, have never been able to quite--quite understand him
in certain ways. He seems a trifle odd at moments. But he certainly is
a friend of the family."

"Then," said I, "you will not be able to have the felicity of seeing
him kill me, Lord Strepp."

"On the contrary," he rejoined considerately, "I would regard it as
usual if he asked me to accompany him to the scene of the fight."

His remark, incidentally, that his sister was fond of Forister, filled
me with a sudden insolent madness.

"I would hesitate to disturb any shipping trade," I said with dignity.
"It is far from me to wish that the commerce of Great Britain should
be hampered by sword-thrust of mine. If it would please young Lord
Strepp, I could hand my apologies to Forister all tied up in blue-silk
ribbon."

But the youthful nobleman only looked at me long with a sad and
reproachful gaze.

"O'Ruddy," he said mournfully, "I have seen you do two fine things.
You have never seen me do anything. But, know you now, once and for
all, that you may not quarrel with me."

This was too much for an Irish heart. I was moved to throw myself on
this lad's neck. I wished to swear to him that I was a brother in
blood, I wished to cut a vein to give him everlasting strength--but
perhaps his sister Mary had something to do with this feeling.

Colonel Royale had been fidgeting. Now he said suddenly:

"Strepp, I wronged you. Your pardon, Mr. O'Ruddy; but, damme, Strepp,
if I didn't think you had gone wrong for the moment."

Lord Strepp took the offered hand. "You are a stupid old firebrain,"
he said affectionately to the Colonel.

"Well," said the Colonel jubilantly, "now everything is clear. If Mr.
O'Ruddy will have me, I will go with him to meet this Forister; and
you, Strepp, will accompany Forister; and we all will meet in a
friendly way--ahem!"

"The situation is intimately involved," said Lord Strepp dejectedly.
"It will be a ridiculous business--watching each blade lunge toward
the breast of a friend. I don't know that it is proper. Royale, let us
set ourselves to part these duellists. It is indecent."

"Did you note the manner in which he kicked him out of the inn?" asked
the Colonel. "Do you think a few soothing words would calm the mind of
one of the finest swordsmen in England?"

I began to do some profound thinking.

"Look you, Colonel," said I. "Do you mean that this wretched little
liar and coward is a fine swordsman?"

"I haven't heard what you call him," said the Colonel, "but his
sword-play is regular firelight on the wall. However," he added
hopefully, "we may find some way to keep him from killing you. I have
seen some of the greatest swordsmen lose by chance to a novice. It is
something like cards. And yet you are not an ignorant player. That, I,
Clarence Royale, know full well. Let us try to beat him."

I remembered Forister's parting sentence. Could it be true that a man
I had kicked with such enthusiasm and success was now about to take
revenge by killing me? I was really disturbed. I was a very brave
youth, but I had the most advanced ideas about being killed. On
occasion of great danger I could easily and tranquilly develop a
philosophy of avoidance and retirement. I had no antiquated notions
about going out and getting myself killed through sheer bull-headed
scorn of the other fellow's hurting me. My father had taught me this
discretion. As a soldier he claimed that he had run away from nine
battles, and he would have run away from more, he said, only that all
the others had turned out to be victories for his side. He was
admittedly a brave man, but, more than this, he had a great deal of
sense. I was the child of my father. It did not seem to me profitable
to be killed for the sake of a sentiment which seemed weak and
dispensable. This little villain! Should I allow him to gratify a
furious revenge because I was afraid to take to my heels? I resolved
to have the courage of my emotions. I would run away.

But of all this I said nothing. It passed through my mind like light
and left me still smiling gayly at Colonel Royale's observations upon
the situation.

"Wounds in the body from Forister," quoth he academically, "are almost
certain to be fatal, for his wrist has a magnificent twist which
reminds one of a top. I do not know where he learned this wrist
movement, but almost invariably it leads him to kill his man. Last
year I saw him--I digress. I must look to it that O'Ruddy has quiet,
rest, and peace of mind until the morning."

Yes; I would have great peace of mind until the morning! I saw that
clearly.

"Well," said I, "at any rate we will know more to-morrow. A good day
to you, Lord Strepp, and I hope your principal has no more harm come
to him than I care to have come to me, which is precious little, and
in which case the two of us will be little hurted."

"Good-bye, O'Ruddy," said the young man.

In the corridor the Colonel slapped my shoulder in a sudden exuberant
outburst.

"O'Ruddy," he cried, "the chance of your life! Probably the best-known
swordsman in all England! 'Pon my word, if you should even graze him,
it would almost make you a peer. If you truly pinked him, you could
marry a duchess. My eye, what an opportunity for a young and ambitious
man."

"And what right has he to be such a fine swordsman?" I demanded
fretfully. "Damn him! 'Tis no right of a little tadpole like him to be
a great cut-throat. One could never have told from the look of him,
and yet it simply teaches one to be always cautious with men."

The Colonel was bubbling over with good nature, his mind full of the
prospective event.

"I saw Ponsonby kill Stewart in their great fight several years
agone," he cried, rubbing his hands, "but Ponsonby was no such
swordsman as Forister, and I misdoubt me that Stewart was much better
than you yourself."

Here was a cheerful butcher. I eyed him coldly.

"And out of this," said I slowly, "comes a vast deal of entertainment
for you, and a hole between two ribs for me. I think I need a drink."

"By all means, my boy," he answered, heartily. "Come to my chamber. A
quart of port under your waistcoat will cure a certain bilious desire
in you to see the worst of things, which I have detected lately in
your manner. With grand sport before us, how could you be otherwise
than jolly? Ha, Ha!"

So saying, he affectionately took my arm and led me along the
corridor.




CHAPTER VII


When I reached my own chamber I sank heavily into a chair. My brain
was in a tumult. I had fallen in love and arranged to be killed in one
short day's work. I stared at my image in a mirror. Could I be The
O'Ruddy? Perhaps my name was Paddy or Jem Bottles? Could I pick myself
out in a crowd? Could I establish my identification? I little knew.

At first I thought of my calm friend who apparently drank blood for
his breakfast. Colonel Royale to me was somewhat of a stranger, but
his charming willingness to grind the bones of his friends in his
teeth was now quite clear. I fight the best swordsman in England as an
amusement, a show? I began to see reasons for returning to Ireland. It
was doubtful if old Mickey Clancy would be able to take full care of
my estate even with the assistance and prevention of Father Donovan.
All properties looked better while the real owner had his eye on them.
It would be a shame to waste the place at Glandore all for a bit of
pride of staying in England. Never a man neglected his patrimony but
that it didn't melt down to a kick in the breeches and much trouble in
the courts. I perceived, in short, that my Irish lands were in danger.
What could endanger them was not quite clear to my eye, but at any
rate they must be saved. Moreover it was necessary to take quick
measures. I started up from my chair, hastily recounting Jem Bottles's
five guineas.

But I bethought me of Lady Mary. She could hardly be my good fairy.
She was rather too plump to be a fairy. She was not extremely plump,
but when she walked something moved within her skirts. For my part I
think little of fairies, who remind me of roasted fowl's wing. Give me
the less brittle beauty which is not likely to break in a man's arms.

After all, I reflected, Mickey Clancy could take care quite well of
that estate at Glandore; and, if he didn't, Father Donovan would soon
bring him to trouble; and, if Father Donovan couldn't, why, the place
was worth very little any how. Besides, 'tis a very weak man who
cannot throw an estate into the air for a pair of bright eyes.

Aye, and Lady Mary's bright eyes! That was one matter. And there was
Forister's bright sword. That was another matter. But to my
descendants I declare that my hesitation did not endure an instant.
Forister might have an arm so supple and a sword so long that he might
be able to touch the nape of his neck with his own point, but I was
firm on English soil. I would meet him even if he were a _chevaux de
frise_. Little it mattered to me. He might swing the ten arms of an
Indian god; he might yell like a gale at sea; he might be more
terrible in appearance than a volcano in its passions; still I would
meet him.

There was a knock, and at my bidding a servant approached and said: "A
gentleman, Mr. Forister, wishes to see you, sir."

For a moment I was privately in a panic. Should I say that I was ill,
and then send for a doctor to prove that I was not ill? Should I run
straightway and hide under the bed? No!

"Bid the gentleman enter," said I to the servant.

Forister came in smiling, cool and deadly. "Good day to you, Mr.
O'Ruddy," he said, showing me his little teeth. "I am glad to see that
you are not for the moment consorting with highwaymen and other
abandoned characters who might succeed in corrupting your morals, Mr.
O'Ruddy. I have decided to kill you, Mr. O'Ruddy. You may have heard
that I am the finest swordsman in England, Mr. O'Ruddy?"

I replied calmly: "I have heard that you are the finest swordsman in
England, Mr. Forister, whenever better swordsmen have been traveling
in foreign parts, Mr. Forister, and when no visitors of fencing
distinction have taken occasion to journey here, Mr. Forister."

This talk did not give him pleasure, evidently. He had entered with
brave composure, but now he bit his lip and shot me a glance of
hatred. "I only wished to announce," he said savagely, "that I would
prefer to kill you in the morning as early as possible."

"And how may I render my small assistance to you, Mr. Forister? Have
you come to request me to arise at an untimely hour?"

I was very placid; but it was not for him to be coming to my chamber
with talk of killing me. Still, I thought that, inasmuch as he was
there, I might do some good to myself by irritating him slightly. I
continued:

"I to-day informed my friends--"

"Your friends!" said he.

"My friends," said I. "Colonel Royale in this matter."

"Colonel Royale!" said he.

"Colonel Royale," said I. "And if you are bound to talk more you had
best thrust your head from the window and talk to those chimneys
there, which will take far more interest in your speech than I can
work up. I was telling you that to-day I informed my friends--then you
interrupted me. Well, I informed them--but what the devil I informed
them of you will not know very soon. I can promise you, however, it
was not a thing you would care to hear with your hands tied behind
you."

"Here's a cold man with a belly full of ice," said he musingly. "I
have wronged him. He has a tongue on him, he has that. And here I have
been judging from his appearance that he was a mere common dolt. And,
what, Mr. O'Ruddy," he added, "were you pleased to say to the
gentlemen which I would not care to hear with my hands tied behind
me?"

"I told them why you took that sudden trip to Bristol," I answered
softly.

He fairly leaped in a sudden wild rage. "You--told them?" he
stuttered. "You poltroon! 'Twas a coward's work!"

"Be easy," said I, to soothe him. "'Tis no more cowardly than it is
for the best swordsman in England to be fighting the worst swordsman
in Ireland over a matter in which he is entirely in the wrong,
although 'tis not me that cares one way or another way. Indeed, I
prefer you to be in the wrong, you little black pig."

"Stop," said he, with a face as white as milk. "You told them--you
told them about--about the girl at Bristol?"

"What girl at Bristol?" said I innocently. "'Tis not me to be knowing
your wenches in Bristol or otherwheres."

A red flush came into the side of his neck and swelled slowly across
his cheeks. "If you've told them about Nell!"

"Nell?" said I. "Nell? Yes, that's the name. Nell. Yes, Nell. And if I
told them about Nell?"

"Then," he rejoined solemnly, "I shall kill you ten times if I lose my
soul in everlasting hell for it."

"But after I have killed you eleven times I shall go to Bristol and
have some sweet interviews with fair Nell," said I. This sting I
expected to call forth a terrific outburst, but he remained scowling
in dark thought. Then I saw where I had been wrong. This Nell was now
more a shame than a sweetheart, and he was afraid that word had been
passed by me to the brother of--Here was a chance to disturb him.
"When I was making my little joke of you and your flame at Bristol,"
said I thoughtfully, "I believe there were no ladies present. I don't
remember quite. Any how we will let that pass. 'Tis of no
consequence."

And here I got him in full cry. "_God rot you!_" he shrieked. His
sword sprang and whistled in the air.

"Hold," said I, as a man of peace. "'Twould be murder. My weapon is on
the bed, and I am too lazy to go and fetch it. And in the mean time
let me assure you that no word has crossed my lips in regard to Nell,
your Bristol sweetheart, for the very excellent reason that I never
knew of her existence until you yourself told me some moments ago."

Never before had he met a man like me. I thought his under-jaw would
drop on the floor.

"Up to a short time ago," said I candidly, "your indecent amours were
safe from my knowledge. I can be in the way of putting myself as
silent as a turtle when it comes to protecting a man from his folly
with a woman. In fact, I am a gentleman. But," I added sternly, "what
of the child?"

"The child?" he cried jumping. "May hell swallow you! And what may you
know of the child?"

I waved my hand in gentle deprecation of his excitement as I said:

"Peace, Forister; I know nothing of any child. It was only an
observation by a man of natural wit who desired to entertain himself.
And, pray, how old is the infant?"

He breathed heavily. "You are a fiend," he answered. Keeping his eyes
on the floor, he deliberated upon his choice of conduct. Presently he
sheathed his sword and turned with some of his old jauntiness toward
the door. "Very good," said he. "To-morrow we shall know more of our
own affairs."

"True," I replied.

"We shall learn if slyness and treachery are to be defeated by
fair-going and honour."

"True," said I.

"We shall learn if a snake in the grass can with freedom bite the foot
of a lion."

"True," said I.

There was a loud jovial clamour at the door, and at my cry it flew
open. Colonel Royale entered precipitately, beaming with good humour.

"O'Ruddy, you rascal," he shouted, "I commanded you to take much rest,
and here I find--" He halted abruptly as he perceived my other
visitor. "And here I find," he repeated coldly, "here I find Mr.
Forister."

Forister saluted with finished politeness. "My friend and I," he said,
"were discussing the probabilities of my killing him in the morning.
He seems to think that he has some small chance for his life, but I
have assured him that any real betting man would not wager a grain of
sand that he would see the sun go down to-morrow."

"Even so," rejoined the Colonel imperturbably.

"And I also suggested to my friend," pursued Forister, "that to-morrow
I would sacrifice my ruffles for him, although I always abominate
having a man's life-blood about my wrists."

"Even so," quoth the undisturbed Colonel.

"And further I suggested to my friend that if he came to the ground
with a coffin on his back, it might promote expedition after the
affair was over."

Colonel Royale turned away with a gesture of disgust.

I thought it was high time to play an ace at Forister and stop his
babble, so I said:

"And when Mr. Forister had finished his graceful remarks we had some
talk regarding Mr. Forister's affairs in Bristol, and I confess I was
much interested in hearing about the little--"

Here I stopped abruptly, as if I had been interrupted by Forister;
but he had given me no sign but a sickly grin.

"Eh, Forister?" said I. "What's that?"

"I was remarking that I had nothing further to say for the present,"
he replied, with superb insolence. "For the time I am quite willing to
be silent. I bid you a good day, sirs."




CHAPTER VIII


As the door closed upon Forister, Colonel Royale beat his hand
passionately against the wall. "O'Ruddy," he cried, "if you could
severely maim that cold-blooded bully, I would be willing to adopt you
as my legitimate grandfather. I would indeed."

"Never fear me," said I. "I shall pink him well."

"Aye," said my friend, looking at me mournfully, "I ever feared your
Irish light-heartedness. 'Twill not do to be confident. He is an evil
man, but a great swordsman. Now I never liked Ponsonby, and Stewart
was the most lovable of men; but in the great duel Ponsonby killed--"

"No," I interrupted, "damn the duel between Ponsonby and Stewart. I'm
sick of it. This is to be the duel between The O'Ruddy and Forister,
and it won't be like the other."

"Eh, well," said the Colonel good-naturedly; "make your mind easy. But
I hope to God you lay him flat."

"After I have finished with him," said I in measured tones, "he will
be willing to sell himself as a sailor to go to the Indies; only, poor
devil, he won't be able to walk, which is always a drawback after a
hard fight, since it leaves one man incapable on the ground and thus
discloses strong evidence of a struggle."

I could see that Colonel Royale had no admiration for my bragging air,
but how otherwise was I to keep up my spirits? With all my
discouragements it seemed to me that I was privileged to do a little
fine lying. Had my father been in my place, he would have lied
Forister into such a corner that the man would be thinking that he had
the devil for an opponent. My father knew more about such matters.

Still I could not help but be thinking how misfortunate it was that I
had kicked a great swordsman out of this inn at Bristol when he might
have been a harmless shoemaker if I had only decent luck. I must make
the best of it, and for this my only method was to talk loudly,--to
myself, if need be; to others if I could. I was not the kind that is
quite unable to say a good word for itself even if I was not able to
lie as well as my father in his prime. In his day he could lie the
coat off a man's back, or the patches off a lady's cheek, and he could
lie a good dog into howling ominously. Still it was my duty to lie as
well as I was able.

After a time Lord Strepp was announced and entered. Both he and
Colonel Royale immediately stiffened and decided not to perceive each
other. "Sir," said Lord Strepp to me, "I have the honour to present my
compliments to you, and to request that you join a friend of mine, Mr.
Forister, at dawn to-morrow, in the settlement of a certain small
misunderstanding."

"Sir," said I, in the same manner, "I am only too happy to have this
little matter adjusted."

"And of course the arrangements, sir?"

"For them I may refer you to my friend Colonel Royale."

"Ah," said the young Lord, as if he had never before seen the Colonel.

"I am at your service, sir," said Colonel Royale as if he never in his
whole life had heard of Lord Strepp.

Then these two began to salaam one another, and mouth out fool
phrases, and cavort and prance and caracole, until I thought them mad.
When they departed there was a dreadful scene. Each refused to go
through the door before the other. There was a frightful deadlock.
They each bowed and scraped and waved their hands, and surrendered the
doorway back and forth, until I thought they were to be in my chamber
eternally. Lord Strepp gorgeously presented the right of way to
Colonel Royale, and the Colonel gorgeously presented the right of way
to Lord Strepp. All this time they were bending their backs at each
other.

Finally I could stand it no longer. "In God's name," I shouted, "the
door is wide enough for the two of you. Take it together. You will go
through like grease. Never fear the door. 'Tis a good wide door."

To my surprise, they turned to glance at me and burst into great
laughter. Then they passed out amiably enough together. I was alone.

Well, the first thing I did was to think. I thought with all my force.
I fancied the top of my skull was coming off. I thought myself into
ten thousand intricacies. I thought myself into doom and out of it,
and behind it and below it, but I could not think of anything which
was of service to me. It seemed that I had come among a lot of
mummers, and one of these mummers was resolved to kill me, although I
had never even so much as broken his leg. But I remembered my father's
word, who had told me that gentlemen should properly kill each other
over a matter of one liking oranges and the other not liking oranges.
It was the custom among men of position, he had said, and of course a
way was not clear to changing this custom at the time. However, I
determined that if I lived I would insist upon all these customs being
moderated and re-directed. For my part I was willing that any man
should like oranges.

I decided that I must go for a walk. To sit and gloom in my room until
the time of the great affair would do me no good in any case. In fact
it was likely to do me much harm. I went forth to the garden in the
rear of the inn. Here spread a lawn more level than a ballroom floor.
There was a summer-house and many beds of flowers. On this day there
was nobody abroad in the garden but an atrocious parrot, which,
balancing on its stick, called out continually raucous cries in a
foreign tongue.

I paced the lawn for a time, and then took a seat in the summer-house.
I had been there but a moment when I perceived Lady Mary and the
Countess come into the garden. Through the leafy walls of the
summer-house I watched them as they walked slowly to and fro on the
grass. The mother had evidently a great deal to say to the daughter.
She waved her arms and spoke with a keen excitement.

But did I overhear anything? I overheard nothing! From what I knew of
the proper conduct of the really thrilling episodes of life I judged
that I should have been able to overhear almost every word of this
conversation. Instead, I could only see the Countess making irritated
speech to Lady Mary.

Moreover it was legitimate that I should have been undetected in the
summer-house. On the contrary, they were perfectly aware that there
was somebody there, and so in their promenade they presented it with a
distinguished isolation.

No old maid ever held her ears so wide open. But I could hear nothing
but a murmur of angry argument from the Countess and a murmur of
gentle objection from Lady Mary. I was in possession of an ideal place
from which to overhear conversation. Almost every important
conversation ever held had been overheard from a position of this
kind. It seemed unfair that I, of all men in literature, should be
denied this casual and usual privilege.

The Countess harangued in a low voice at great length; Lady Mary
answered from time to time, admitting this and admitting that,
protesting against the other. It seemed certain to me that talk
related to Forister, although I had no real reason for thinking it.
And I was extremely angry that the Countess of Westport and her
daughter, Lady Mary Strepp, should talk of Forister.

Upon my indignant meditations the parrot interpolated:

"Ho, ho!" it cried hoarsely. "A pretty lady! A pretty lady! A pretty
lady! A pretty lady!--"

Lady Mary smiled at this vacuous repetition, but her mother went into
a great rage, opening her old jaws like a maddened horse. "Here,
landlord! Here, waiter! Here, anybody!"

So people came running from the inn, and at their head was, truly
enough, the landlord. "My lady," he cried panting.

She pointed an angry and terrible finger at the parrot. "When I walk
in this garden, am I to be troubled with this wretched bird?"

The landlord almost bit the turf while the servants from the inn
grovelled near him. "My lady," he cried, "the bird shall be removed at
once." He ran forward. The parrot was chained by its leg to a tall
perch. As the innkeeper came away with the entire business, the parrot
began to shout: "Old harridan! Old harridan! Old harridan!" The
innkeeper seemed to me to be about to die of wild terror. It was a
dreadful moment. One could not help but feel sorry for this poor
wretch, whose sole offence was that he kept an inn and also chose to
keep a parrot in his garden.

The Countess sailed grandly toward the door of the hotel. To the
solemn protestations of six or seven servants she paid no heed. At the
door she paused and turned for the intimate remark. "I cannot endure
parrots," she said impressively. To this dictum the menials crouched.

The servants departed: the garden was now empty save for Lady Mary and
me. She continued a pensive strolling. Now, I could see plainly that
here fate had arranged for some kind of interview. The whole thing was
set like a scene in a theatre. I was undoubtedly to emerge suddenly
from the summer-house; the lovely maid would startle, blush, cast down
her eyes, turn away. Then, when it came my turn, I would doff my hat
to the earth and beg pardon for continuing a comparatively futile
existence. Then she would slyly murmur a disclaimer of any ability to
criticise my continuation of a comparatively futile existence, adding
that she was but an inexperienced girl. The ice thus being broken, we
would travel by easy stages into more intimate talk.

I looked down carefully at my apparel and flecked a handkerchief over
it. I tilted my hat; I set my hip against my harbour. A moment of
indecision, of weakness, and I was out of the summer-house. God knows
how I hoped that Lady Mary would not run away.

But the moment she saw me she came swiftly to me. I almost lost my
wits.

"'Tis the very gentleman I wished to see," she cried. She was
blushing, it is true, but it was evident she intended to say nothing
about inexperience or mere weak girls. "I wished to see you because--"
she hesitated and then rapidly said: "It was about the papers. I
wanted to thank you--I--you have no notion how happy the possession of
the papers has made my father. It seemed to have given him new life.
I--I saw you throw your sword on the floor with the hilt away from
you. And--and then you gave me the papers. I knew you were a gallant
gentleman."

All this time, I, in my confusion, was bobbing and murmuring pledges
of service. But if I was confused, Lady Mary was soon cool enough in
the presence of a simple bog-trotter like me. Her beautiful eyes
looked at me reflectively.

"There is only one service I can render you, sir," said she softly.
"'Tis advice which would have been useful in saving some men's lives
if only they had received it. I mean--don't fight with Forister in the
morning. 'Tis certain death."

It was now my turn once more. I drew myself up, and for the first time
I looked squarely into her bright eyes.

"My lady," said I, with mournful dignity, "I was filled with pride
when you said the good word to me. But what am I to think now? Am I,
after all, such a poor stick that, to your mind, I could be advised to
sell my honour for a mere fear of being killed?"

Even then I remembered my one-time decision to run away from the duel
with Forister; but we will not be thinking of that now.

Tears came into Lady Mary's eyes. "Ah, now, I have blundered," she
said. "'Tis what you would say, sir. 'Tis what you would do. I have
only made matters worse. A woman's meddling often results in the
destruction of those she--those she don't care to have killed."

One would think from the look of this last sentence, that with certain
reason I could have felt somewhat elated without being altogether a
fool. Lady Mary meant nothing of importance by her speech, but it was
a little bit for a man who was hungry to have her think of him. But
here I was assailed by a very demon of jealousy and distrust. This
beautiful witch had some plan in her head which did not concern my
welfare at all. Why should she, a great lady, take any trouble for a
poor devil who was living at an inn on money borrowed from a
highwayman. I had been highly honoured by an indifferent
consideration born of a wish to be polite to a man who had eased the
mind of her father. No; I would not deceive myself.

But her tears! Were they marking indifferent consideration? For a
second I lost myself in a roseate impossible dream. I dreamed that she
had spoken to me because she--

Oh, what folly! Even as I dreamed, she turned to me with splendid
carriage, and remarked coldly:

"I did not wish you to suppose that I ever failed to pay a debt. I
have paid this one. Proceed now, sir, in your glowing stupidity. I
have done."

When I recovered myself she was placidly moving away from me toward
the door of the inn.




CHAPTER IX


I had better be getting to the story of the duel. I have been hanging
back with it long enough, and I shall tell it at once. I remember my
father saying that the most aggravating creature in life was one who
would be keeping back the best part of a story through mere reasons of
trickery, although I have seen himself dawdle over a tale until his
friends wished to hurl the decanters at him. However, there can be no
doubting of the wisdom of my father's remark. Indeed there can be
little doubting of the wisdom of anything that my father said in life,
for he was a very learned man. The fact that my father did not
invariably defer to his own opinions does not alter the truth of those
opinions in my judgment, since even the greatest of philosophers is
more likely to be living a life based on the temper of his wife and
the advice of his physician than on the rules laid down in his books.
Nor am I certain that my father was in a regular habit of delaying a
story. I only remember this one incident, wherein he was recounting a
stirring tale of a fight with a lancer, and just as the lance was
within an inch of the paternal breast my father was reminded, by a
sight of the walnuts, that Mickey Clancy was not serving the port with
his usual rapidity, and so he addressed him. I remember the words
well.

"Mickey, you spalpeen," said my father, "would you be leaving the
gentlemen as dry as the bottom of Moses' feet when he crossed the Red
Sea? Look at O'Mahoney there! He is as thirsty as a fish in the top of
a tree. And Father Donovan has had but two small quarts, and he never
takes less than five. Bad luck to you, Mickey, if it was a drink for
your own stomach, you would be moving faster. Are you wishing to ruin
my reputation for hospitality, you rogue you?"

And my father was going on with Mickey, only that he looked about him
at this time and discovered his guests all upon their feet, one with
the tongs and one with the poker, others with decanters ready to
throw.

"What's this?" said he.

"The lance," said they.

"What lance?" said he.

"The lance of the lancer," said they.

"And why shouldn't he have a lance?" said my father. "'Faith, 'twould
be an odd lancer without a lance!"

By this time they were so angry that Mickey, seeing how things were
going, and I being a mere lad, took me from the room. I never heard
precisely what happened to the lancer, but he must have had the worst
of it, for wasn't my father, seated there at the table, telling the
story long years after?

Well, as to my duel with Forister: Colonel Royale was an extremely
busy man, and almost tired my life out with a quantity of needless
attentions. For my part, I thought more of Lady Mary and the fact that
she considered me no more than if I had been a spud. Colonel Royale
fluttered about me. I would have gruffly sent him away if it were not
that everything he did was meant in kindliness and generous feeling. I
was already believing that he did not have more than one brain in his
head, but I could not be ungrateful for his interest and enthusiasm in
getting me out to be hurt correctly. I understood, long years
afterward, that he and Lord Strepp were each so particular in the
negotiations that no less than eighteen bottles of wine were consumed.

The morning for the duel dawned softly warm, softly wet, softly foggy.
The Colonel popped into my room the moment I was dressed. To my
surprise, he was now quite mournful. It was I, now, who had to do the
cheering.

"Your spirits are low, Colonel?" said I banteringly.

"Aye, O'Ruddy," he answered with an effort, "I had a bad night, with
the gout. Heaven help this devil from getting his sword into your
bowels."

He had made the appointment with Strepp, of course, and as we walked
toward the ground he looked at me very curiously out of the ends of
his eyes. "You know--ah, you have the honour of the acquaintance of
Lady Mary Strepp, O'Ruddy?" said he suddenly and nervously.

"I have," I answered, stiffening. Then I said: "And you?"

"Her father and I were friends before either of you were born," he
said simply. "I was a cornet in his old regiment. Little Lady Mary
played at the knee of the poor young subaltern."

"Oh," said I meanly, "you are, then, a kind of uncle."

"Aye," said he, "a kind of uncle. So much of an uncle," he added with
more energy, "that when she gave me this note I thought much of acting
like a real uncle. From what I have unfortunately overheard, I suspect
that the Earl--aw--disagrees with you on certain points."

He averted his face as he handed me the note, and eagerly I tore it
open. It was unsigned. It contained but three words: "God spare you!"
And so I marched in a tumult of joy to a duel wherein I was expected
to be killed.

I glanced at the Colonel. His countenance was deeply mournful. "'Tis
for few girls I would become a dove to carry notes between lovers," he
said gloomily. "Damn you for it, O'Ruddy!"

"Nay, Colonel," said I. "'Tis no missive of love. Look you!"

But still he kept his eyes averted. "I judge it was not meant for my
eyes," he said, still very gloomy.

But here I flamed up in wrath:

"And would the eye of an angel be allowed to rest upon this paper if
it were not fit that it should be so?" I demanded in my anger.
"Colonel, am I to hear you bleat about doves and lovers when a glance
of your eye will disabuse you? Read!"

He read. "'God spare you!'" he repeated tenderly. Then he addressed me
with fine candor. "Aye, I have watched her these many years, O'Ruddy.
When she was a babe I have seen her in her little bath. When she was a
small girl I have seen her asleep with some trinket clasped in her
rosy hand on the coverlet. Since she has been a beautiful young lady I
have--but no matter. You come along, named nobody, hailing from
nowhere; and she--she sends me out to deliver her prayer that God may
spare you!"

I was awed by this middle-aged sorrow. But, curse him! when she was a
babe he had seen her in her little bath, had he? Damn his eyes! He had
seen the baby naked in her tiny tub? Damn his eyes again! I was in
such a fury that I longed to fight Royale on the spot and kill him,
running my sword through his memory so that it would be blotted out
forever, and never, never again, even in Paradise, could he recall the
image in the little tub.

But the Colonel's next words took the rage out of me.

"Go in, O'Ruddy," he cried heartily. "There is no truer man could win
her. As my lady says, 'God spare you!'"

"And if Forister's blade be not too brisk, I will manage to be
spared," I rejoined.

"Oh, there is another thing touching the matter," said the Colonel
suddenly. "Forister is your chief rival, although I little know what
has passed between them. Nothing important, I think, although I am
sure Forister is resolved to have her for a bride. Of that I am
certain. He is resolved."

"Is he so?" said I.

I was numb and cold for a moment. Then I slowly began to boil, like a
kettle freshly placed on the fire. So I was facing a rival? Well, and
he would get such a facing as few men had received. And he was my
rival and in the breast of my coat I wore a note--"God spare you!" Ha,
ha! He little knew the advantages under which he was to play. Could I
lose with "God spare you!" against my heart? Not against three
Foristers!

But hold! might it not be that the gentle Lady Mary, deprecating this
duel and filled with feelings of humanity, had sent us each a note
with this fervid cry for God to spare us? I was forced to concede it
possible. After all, I perfectly well knew that to Lady Mary I was a
mere nothing. Royale's words had been so many plumes in my life's
helmet, but at bottom I knew better than to set great store by them.
The whole thing was now to hurry to the duelling-ground and see if I
could discover from this black Forister's face if he had received a
"God spare you!" I took the Colonel's arm and fairly dragged him.

"Damme, O'Ruddy!" said he, puffing; "this can be nought but genuine
eagerness."

When we came to the duelling-place we found Lord Strepp and Forister
pacing to and fro, while the top of a near-by wall was crowded with
pleasant-minded spectators. "Aye, you've come, have ye, sirs?" called
out the rabble. Lord Strepp seemed rather annoyed, and Colonel Royale
grew red and stepped peremptorily toward the wall, but Forister and I
had eyes only for each other. His eye for me was a glad, cruel eye. I
have a dim remembrance of seeing the Colonel take his scabbard and
incontinently beat many worthy citizens of Bristol; indeed, he seemed
to beat every worthy citizen of Bristol who had not legs enough to get
away. I could hear them squeaking out protests while I keenly studied
the jubilant Forister.

Aye, it was true. He too had a "God spare you!" I felt my blood begin
to run hot. My eyes suddenly cleared as if I had been empowered with
miraculous vision. My arm became supple as a whip. I decided upon one
thing. I would kill Forister.

I thought the Colonel never would give over chasing citizens, but at
last he returned breathless, having scattered the populace over a wide
stretch of country. The preliminaries were very simple. In a
half-minute Forister and I, in our shirts, faced each other.

And now I passed into such a state of fury that I cannot find words to
describe it; but, as I have said, I was possessed with a remarkable
clearness of vision and strength of arm. These phenomena amaze me even
at this day. I was so airy upon my feet that I might have been a
spirit. I think great rages work thus upon some natures. Their
competence is suddenly made manifold. They live, for a brief space,
the life of giants. Rage is destruction active. Whenever anything in
this world needs to be destroyed, nature makes somebody wrathful.
Another thing that I recall is that I had not the slightest doubt of
my ability to kill Forister. There were no more misgivings: no
quakings. I thought of the impending duel with delight.

In all my midnight meditations upon the fight I had pictured myself as
lying strictly upon the defensive and seeking a chance opportunity to
damage my redoubtable opponent. But the moment after our swords had
crossed I was an absolute demon of attack. My very first lunge made
him give back a long pace. I saw his confident face change to a look
of fierce excitement.

There is little to say of the flying, spinning blades. It is only
necessary to remark that Forister dropped almost immediately to
defensive tactics before an assault which was not only impetuous but
exceedingly brilliant, if I may be allowed to say so. And I know that
on my left a certain Colonel Royale was steadily growing happier.

The end came with an almost ridiculous swiftness. The feeling of an
ugly quivering wrench communicated itself from the point of my sword
to my mind; I heard Strepp and Royale cry "Hold!" I saw Forister fall;
I lowered my point and stood dizzily thinking. My sight was now
blurred; my arm was weak.

My sword had gone deep into Forister's left shoulder, and the bones
there had given that hideous feeling of a quivering wrench. He was not
injured beyond repair, but he was in exquisite agony. Before they
could reach him he turned over on his elbows and managed in some way
to fling his sword at me. "Damn your soul!" he cried, and he gave a
sort of howl as Lord Strepp, grim and unceremonious, bounced him over
again upon his back. In the mean time Colonel Royale was helping me on
with my coat and waistcoat, although I hardly knew that either he or
the coat or waistcoat were in existence.

I had my usual inclination to go forward and explain to everybody how
it all had happened. But Royale took me forcibly by the arm, and we
turned our backs on Strepp and Forister and walked toward the inn.

As soon as we were out of their sight, Colonel Royale clasped my hands
with rapture. "My boy," he cried, "you are great! You are renowned!
You are illustrious! What a game you could give Ponsonby! You would
give him such a stir!"

"Never doubt me," said I. "But I am now your legitimate grandfather,
and I should be treated with great respect."

When we came near the inn I began to glance up at the windows. I
surely expected to see a face at one of them. Certainly she would care
to know who was slain or who was hurt. She would be watching, I fondly
hoped, to see who returned on his legs. But the front of the inn
stared at us, chilly and vacant, like a prison wall.

When we entered, the Colonel bawled lustily for an immediate bottle of
wine, and I joined him in its drinking, for I knew that it would be a
bellows to my flagging spirits. I had set my heart upon seeing a face
at the window of the inn.




CHAPTER X


And now I found out what it was to be a famous swordsman. All that day
the inn seemed to hum with my name. I could not step down a corridor
without seeing flocks of servants taking wing. They fled tumultuously.
A silly maid coming from a chamber with a bucket saw me and shrieked.
She dropped her bucket and fled back into the chamber. A man-servant
saw me, gave a low moan of terror, and leaped down a convenient
stairway. All attendants scuttled aside.

What was the matter with me? Had I grown in stature or developed a
ferocious ugliness? No; I now was a famous swordsman. That was all. I
now was expected to try to grab the maids and kiss them wantonly. I
now was expected to clout the grooms on their ears if they so much as
showed themselves in my sight. In fact, I was now a great blustering,
overpowering, preposterous ass.

There was a crowd of people in the coffee-room, but the buzz of talk
suddenly ceased as I entered.

"Is this your chair, sir?" said I civilly to a gentleman.

He stepped away from the chair as if it had tried to bite him.

"'Tis at your service, sir!" he cried hastily.

"No," said I, "I would not be taking it if it be yours, for there are
just as good chairs in the sea as ever were caught, and it would ill
become me to deprive a gentleman of his chair when by exercising a
little energy I can gain one for myself, although I am willing to
admit that I have a slight hunger upon me. 'Tis a fine morning, sir."

He had turned pale and was edging toward the door. "'Tis at your
service, sir," he repeated in a low and frightened voice. All the
people were staring at us.

"No, good sir," I remonstrated, stepping forward to explain. "I would
not be having you think that I am unable to get a chair for myself,
since I am above everything able and swift with my hands, and it is a
small thing to get a chair for one's self and not deprive a worthy
gentleman of his own."

"I did not think to deprive you, sir," he ejaculated desperately. "The
chair is at your service, sir!"

"Plague the man!" I cried, stamping my foot impatiently; and at the
stamping of my foot a waiter let fall a dish, some women screamed,
three or four people disappeared through the door, and a venerable
gentleman arose from his seat in a corner and in a tremulous voice
said:

"Sir, let us pray you that there be no bloodshed."

"You are an old fool," said I to him. "How could there be bloodshed
with me here merely despising you all for not knowing what I mean when
I say it."

"We know you mean what you say, sir," responded the old gentleman.
"Pray God you mean peaceably!"

"Hoity-toity!" shouted a loud voice, and I saw a great, tall, ugly
woman bearing down upon me from the doorway. "Out of my way," she
thundered at a waiter. The man gasped out: "Yes, your ladyship!"

I was face to face with the mother of my lovely Mary.

"Hoity-toity!" she shouted at me again. "A brawler, eh? A lively
swordster, hey? A real damn-my-eyes swaggering bully!"

Then she charged upon me. "How dare you brawl with these inoffensive
people under the same roof which shelters me, fellow? By my word, I
would have pleasure to give you a box on the ear!"

"Madam," I protested hurriedly. But I saw the futility of it. Without
devoting further time to an appeal, I turned and fled. I dodged behind
three chairs and moved them hastily into a rampart.

"Madam," I cried, feeling that I could parley from my new position,
"you labour under a misapprehension."

"Misapprehend me no misapprehensions," she retorted hotly. "How dare
you say that I can misapprehend anything, wretch?"

She attacked each flank in turn, but so agile was I that I escaped
capture, although my position in regard to the chairs was twice
reversed. We performed a series of nimble manoeuvres which were
characterized on my part by a high degree of strategy. But I found the
rampart of chairs an untenable place. I was again obliged hurriedly to
retreat, this time taking up a position behind a large table.

"Madam," I said desperately, "believe me, you are suffering under a
grave misapprehension."

"Again he talks of misapprehension!"

We revolved once swiftly around the table; she stopped, panting.

"And this is the blusterer! And why do you not stand your ground,
coward?"

"Madam," said I with more coolness now that I saw she would soon be
losing her wind, "I would esteem it very ungallant behaviour if I
endured your attack for even a brief moment. My forefathers form a
brave race which always runs away from the ladies."

After this speech we revolved twice around the table. I must in all
candour say that the Countess used language which would not at all
suit the pages of my true and virtuous chronicle; but indeed it was no
worse than I often heard afterward from the great ladies of the time.
However, the talk was not always addressed to me, thank the Saints!

After we had made the two revolutions, I spoke reasonably. "Madam,"
said I, "if we go spinning about the table in this fashion for any
length of time, these gawking spectators will think we are a pair of
wheels."

"Spectators!" she cried, lifting her old head high. She beheld about
seventy-five interested people. She called out loudly to them:

"And is there no gentleman among you all to draw his sword and beat me
this rascal from the inn?"

Nobody moved.

"Madam," said I, still reasonable, "would it not be better to avoid a
possible scandal by discontinuing these movements, as the tongues of
men are not always fair, and it might be said by some--"

Whereupon we revolved twice more around the table.

When the old pelican stopped, she had only enough breath left to
impartially abuse all the sight-seers. As her eye fixed upon them,
The O'Ruddy, illustrious fighting-man, saw his chance and bolted like
a hare. The escape must have formed a great spectacle, but I had no
time for appearances. As I was passing out of the door, the Countess,
in her disappointed rage, threw a heavy ivory fan after me, which
struck an innocent bystander in the eye, for which he apologized.




CHAPTER XI


I wasted no time in the vicinity of the inn. I decided that an
interval spent in some remote place would be consistent with the
behaviour of a gentleman.

But the agitations of the day were not yet closed for me. Suddenly I
came upon a small, slow-moving, and solemn company of men, who carried
among them some kind of a pallet, and on this pallet was the body of
Forister. I gazed upon his ghastly face; I saw the large blood
blotches on his shirt; as they drew nearer I saw him roll his eyes and
heard him groan. Some of the men recognized me, and I saw black looks
and straight-pointing fingers. At the rear walked Lord Strepp with
Forister's sword under his arm. I turned away with a new impression of
the pastime of duelling. Forister's pallor, the show of bloody cloth,
his groan, the dark stares of men, made me see my victory in a
different way, and I even wondered if it had been absolutely necessary
to work this mischief upon a fellow-being.

I spent most of the day down among the low taverns of the sailors,
striving to interest myself in a thousand new sights brought by the
ships from foreign parts.

But ever my mind returned to Lady Mary, and to my misfortune in being
pursued around chairs and tables by my angel's mother. I had also
managed to have a bitter quarrel with the noble father of this lovely
creature. It was hardly possible that I could be joyous over my
prospects.

At noon I returned to the inn, approaching with some display of
caution. As I neared it, a carriage followed by some horsemen whirled
speedily from the door. I knew at once that Lady Mary had been taken
from me. She was gone with her father and mother back to London. I
recognized Lord Strepp and Colonel Royale among the horsemen.

I walked through the inn to the garden, and looked at the parrot. My
senses were all numb. I stared at the bird as it rolled its wicked eye
at me.

"Pretty lady! Pretty lady!" it called in coarse mockery.

"Plague the bird!" I muttered, as I turned upon my heel and entered
the inn.

"My bill," said I. "A horse for Bath!" said I.

Again I rode forth on a quest. The first had been after my papers. The
second was after my love. The second was the hopeless one, and,
overcome by melancholy, I did not even spur my horse swiftly on my
mission. There was upon me the deep-rooted sadness which balances the
mirth of my people,--the Celtic aptitude for discouragement; and even
the keening of old women in the red glow of the peat fire could never
have deepened my mood.

And if I should succeed in reaching London, what then? Would the wild
savage from the rocky shore of Ireland be a pleasing sight to my Lady
Mary when once more amid the glamour and whirl of the fashionable
town? Besides, I could no longer travel on the guineas of Jem Bottles.
He had engaged himself and his purse in my service because I had told
him of a fortune involved in the regaining of certain papers. I had
regained those papers, and then coolly placed them as a gift in a
certain lovely white hand. I had had no more thought of Jem Bottles
and his five guineas than if I had never seen them. But this was no
excuse for a gentleman. When I was arrived at the rendezvous I must
immediately confess to Jem Bottles, the highwayman, that I had wronged
him. I did not expect him to demand satisfaction, but I thought he
might shoot me in the back as I was riding away.

But Jem was not at the appointed place under the tree. Not puzzled at
this behaviour, I rode on. I saw I could not expect the man to stay
for ever under a tree while I was away in Bristol fighting a duel and
making eyes at a lady. Still, I had heard that it was always done.

At the inn where Paddy holed Forister, I did not dismount, although a
hostler ran out busily. "No," said I. "I ride on." I looked at the
man. Small, sharp-eyed, weazened, he was as likely a rascal of a
hostler as ever helped a highwayman to know a filled purse from a man
who was riding to make arrangements with his creditors.

"Do you remember me?" said I.

"No, sir," he said with great promptitude.

"Very good," said I. "I knew you did. Now I want to know if Master Jem
Bottles has passed this way to-day. A shilling for the truth and a
thrashing for a lie."

The man came close to my stirrup. "Master," he said, "I know you to be
a friend of him. Well, in day-time he don't ride past our door. There
be lanes. And so he ain't passed here, and that's the truth."

I flung him a shilling. "Now," I said, "what of the red giant?"

The man opened his little eyes in surprise. "He took horse with you
gentlemen and rode on to Bristol, or I don't know."

"Very good; now I see two very fine horses champing in the yard. And
who owns them?"

If I had expected to catch him in treachery I was wrong.

"Them?" said he, jerking his thumb. He still kept his voice lowered.
"They belong to two gentlemen who rode out some hours agone along with
some great man's carriage. The officer said some pin-pricks he had
gotten in a duel had stiffened him, and made the saddle ill of ease
with him, and the young lord said that he would stay behind as a
companion. They be up in the Colonel's chamber, drinking vastly. But
mind your life, sir, if you would halt them on the road. They be men
of great spirit. This inn seldom sees such drinkers."

And so Lord Strepp and Colonel Royale were resting at this inn while
the carriage of the Earl had gone on toward Bath? I had a mind to
dismount and join the two in their roystering, but my eyes turned
wistfully toward Bath.

As I rode away I began to wonder what had become of Jem Bottles and
Paddy. Here was a fine pair to be abroad in the land. Here were two
jewels to be rampaging across the country. Separately, they were
villains enough, but together they would overturn England and get
themselves hung for it on twin gibbets. I tried to imagine the
particular roguery to which they would first give their attention.

But then all thought of the rascals faded from me as my mind received
a vision of Lady Mary's fair face, her figure, her foot. It would not
be me to be thinking of two such thieves when I could be dreaming of
Lady Mary with her soft voice and the clear depth of her eyes. My
horse seemed to have a sympathy with my feeling and he leaped bravely
along the road. The Celtic melancholy of the first part of the journey
had blown away like a sea-mist. I sped on gallantly toward Bath and
Lady Mary.

But almost at the end of the day, when I was within a few miles of
Bath, my horse suddenly pitched forward onto his knees and nose. There
was a flying spray of muddy water. I was flung out of the saddle, but
I fell without any serious hurt whatever. We had been ambushed by some
kind of deep-sided puddle. My poor horse scrambled out and stood with
lowered head, heaving and trembling. His soft nose had been cut
between his teeth and the far edge of the puddle. I led him forward,
watching his legs. He was lamed. I looked in wrath and despair back at
the puddle, which was as plain as a golden guinea on a platter. I do
not see how I could have blundered into it, for the daylight was still
clear and strong. I had been gazing like a fool in the direction of
Bath. And my Celtic melancholy swept down upon me again, and even my
father's bier appeared before me with the pale candle-flames swaying
in the gusty room, and now indeed my ears heard the loud wailing keen
of the old women.

"Rubbish," said I suddenly and aloud, "and is it one of the best
swordsmen in England that is to be beaten by a lame horse?" My spirit
revived. I resolved to leave my horse in the care of the people of
the nearest house and proceed at once on foot to Bath. The people of
the inn could be sent out after the poor animal. Wheeling my eyes, I
saw a house not more than two fields away, with honest hospitable
smoke curling from the chimneys. I led my beast through a hole in the
hedge, and I slowly made my way toward it.

Now it happened that my way led me near a haycock, and as I neared
this haycock I heard voices from the other side of it. I hastened
forward, thinking to find some yokels. But as I drew very close I
suddenly halted and silently listened to the voices on the other side.

"Sure, I can read," Paddy was saying. "And why wouldn't I be able? If
we couldn't read in Ireland, we would be after being cheated in our
rents, but we never pay them any how, so that's no matter. I would be
having you to know we are a highly educated people. And perhaps you
would be reading it yourself, my man?"

"No," said Jem Bottles, "I be not a great scholar and it has a look of
amazing hardness. And I misdoubt me," he added in a morose and envious
voice, "that your head be too full of learning."

"Learning!" cried Paddy. "Why wouldn't I be learned, since my uncle
was a sexton and had to know one grave from another by looking at the
stones so as never to mix up the people? Learning! says you? And
wasn't there a convent at Ballygowagglycuddi, and wasn't
Ballygowagglycuddi only ten miles from my father's house, and haven't
I seen it many a time?"

"Aye, well, good Master Paddy," replied Jem Bottles, oppressed and
sullen, but still in a voice ironic from suspicion, "I never doubt me
but what you are a regular clerk for deep learning, but you have not
yet read a line from the paper, and I have been waiting this
half-hour."

"And how could I be reading?" cried Paddy in tones of indignation.
"How could I be reading with you there croaking of this and that and
speaking hard of my learning? Bad cess to the paper, I will be after
reading it to myself if you are never to stop your clatter, Jem
Bottles."

"I be still as a dead rat," exclaimed the astonished highwayman.

"Well, then," said Paddy. "Listen hard, and you will hear such
learning as would be making your eyes jump from your head. And 'tis
not me either that cares to show my learning before people who are
unable to tell a mile-post from a church-tower."

"I be awaiting," said Jem Bottles with a new meekness apparently born
of respect for Paddy's eloquence.

"Well, then," said Paddy, pained at these interruptions. "Listen well,
and maybe you will gain some learning which may serve you all your
life in reading chalk-marks in taprooms; for I see that they have that
custom in this country, and 'tis very bad for hard-drinking men who
have no learning."

"If you would read from the paper--" began Jem Bottles.

"Now, will you be still?" cried Paddy in vast exasperation.

But here Jem Bottles spoke with angry resolution. "Come, now! Read!
'Tis not me that talks too much, and the day wanes."

"Well, well, I would not be hurried, and that's the truth," said Paddy
soothingly. "Listen now." I heard a rustling of paper. "Ahem!" said
Paddy, "Ahem! Are ye listening, Jem Bottles?"

"I be," replied the highwayman.

"Ahem!" said Paddy. "Ahem! Are ye listening, Jem Bottles?"

"I be," replied the highwayman.

"Then here's for it," said Paddy in a formidable voice. There was
another rustling of paper. Then to my surprise I heard Paddy intone,
without punctuation, the following words:

     "Dear Sister Mary I am asking the good father to write this
     because my hand is lame from milking the cows although we
     only have one and we sold her in the autumn the four
     shillings you owe on the pig we would like if convenient to
     pay now owing to the landlord may the plague take him how
     did your Mickey find the fishing when you see Peggy tell
     her--"

Here Jem Bottles's voice arose in tones of incredulity.

"And these be the papers of the great Earl!" he cried.

Then the truth flashed across my vision like the lightning. My two
madmen had robbed the carriage of the Earl of Westport, and had taken,
among other things, the Earl's papers--my papers--Lady Mary's papers.
I strode around the haycock.

"Wretches!" I shouted. "Miserable wretches!"

For a time they were speechless. Paddy found his tongue first.

"Aye, 'tis him! 'Tis nothing but little black men and papers with him,
and when we get them for him he calls us out of our names in a foreign
tongue. 'Tis no service for a bright man," he concluded mournfully.

"Give me the papers," said I.

Paddy obediently handed them. I knew them. They were my papers--Lady
Mary's papers.

"And now," said I, eyeing the pair, "what mischief have you two been
compassing?"

Paddy only mumbled sulkily. It was something on the difficulties of
satisfying me on the subjects of little black men and papers. Jem
Bottles was also sulky, but he grumbled out the beginning of an
explanation.

"Well, master, I bided under the tree till him here came, and then we
together bided. And at last we thought, with the time so heavy, we
might better work to handle a purse or two. Thinking," he said
delicately, "our gentleman might have need of a little gold. Well, and
as we were riding, a good lad from the--your worship knows
where--tells us the Earl's carriage is halting there for a time, but
will go on later without its escort of two gentlemen; only with
servants. And, thinking to do our gentleman a good deed, I brought
them to stand on the highway, and then he--"

"And then I," broke in Paddy proudly, "walks up to the carriage-door
looking like a king's cruiser, and says I, 'Pray excuse the manners of
a self-opinionated man, but I consider your purses would look better
in my pocket.' And then there was a great trouble. An old owl of a
woman screeched, and was for killing me with a bottle which she had
been holding against her nose. But she never dared. And with that an
old sick man lifted himself from hundreds of cushions and says he,
'What do you want? You can't have them,' says he, and he keeps
clasping his breast. 'First of all,' says I, 'I want what you have
there. What I want else I'll tell you at my leisure.' And he was all
for mouthing and fuming, but he was that scared he gave me these
papers--bad luck to them." Paddy cast an evil eye upon the papers in
my hand.

"And then?" said I.

"The driver he tried for to whip up," interpolated Jem Bottles. "He
was a game one, but the others were like wet cats."

"And says I," continued Paddy, "'now we will have the gold, if it
please you.' And out it came. 'I bid ye a good journey,' says I, and I
thought it was over, and how easy it was highwaying, and I liked it
well, until the lady on the front seat opens her hood and shows me a
prettier face than we have in all Ireland. She clasps two white hands.
'Oh, please Mister Highwayman, my father's papers--' And with that I
backs away. 'Let them go,' says I to Jem Bottles, and sick I was of
it, and I would be buying masses to-night if I might find a Christian
church. The poor lady!"

I was no longer angry with Paddy.

"Aye," said Jem Bottles, "the poor lady was that forlorn!"

I was no longer angry with Jem Bottles.

But I now had to do a deal of thinking. It was plain that the papers
were of supreme importance to the Earl. Although I had given them to
Lady Mary, they had returned to me. It was fate. My father had taught
me to respect these papers, but I now saw them as a sign in the sky.

However, it was hard to decide what to do. I had given the papers to
Lady Mary, and they had fled back to me swifter than cormorants.
Perhaps it was willed that I should keep them. And then there would be
tears in the eyes of Lady Mary, who suffered through the suffering of
her father. No; come good, come bad for me, for Jem Bottles, for
Paddy, I would stake our fortunes on the act of returning the papers
to Lady Mary.

It is the way of Irishmen. We are all of us true philanthropists. That
is why we have nothing, although in other countries I have seen
philanthropists who had a great deal. My own interest in the papers I
staked, mentally, with a glad mind; the minor interests of Jem Bottles
and Paddy I staked, mentally, without thinking of them at all. But
surely it would be a tribute to fate to give anything to Lady Mary.

I resolved on a course of action. When I aroused to look at my
companions I found them seated face to face on the ground like players
of draughts. Between them was spread a handkerchief, and on that
handkerchief was a heap of guineas. Jem Bottles was saying, "Here be
my fingers five times over again." He separated a smaller heap. "Here
be my fingers five times over again." He separated another little
stack. "And here be my fingers five times over again and two more yet.
Now can ye understand?"

"By dad," said Paddy admiringly, "you have the learning this time,
Master Bottles. My uncle the sexton could not have done it better."

"What is all this?" said I.

They both looked at me deprecatingly. "'Tis, your honour," began
Paddy; "'tis only some little small sum--nothing to be talked
of--belonging to the old sick man in the carriage."

"Paddy and Jem Bottles," said I, "I forgive you the taking of the
papers. Ye are good men and true. Now we will do great deeds."




CHAPTER XII


My plans were formed quickly. "We now have a treasure chest of no
small dimensions," said I, very complacent, naturally. "We can conquer
London with this. Everything is before us. I have already established
myself as the grandest swordsman in the whole continent of England.
Lately we have gained much treasure. And also I have the papers.
Paddy, do you take care of this poor horse. Then follow me into Bath.
Jem Bottles, do you mount and ride around the town, for I fear your
balladists. Meet me on the London road. Ride slowly on the highway to
London, and in due time I will overtake you. I shall pocket a few of
those guineas, but you yourself shall be the main treasury. Hold! what
of Paddy's hair? Did he rob the Earl with that great flame showing? He
dare not appear in Bath."

"'Tis small tribute to my wit, sir," answered Jem Bottles. "I would as
soon go poaching in company with a lighthouse as to call a stand on
the road with him uncovered. I tied him in cloth until he looked no
more like himself than he now does look like a parson."

"Aye," said Paddy in some bad humour, "my head was tied in a bag. My
mother would not have known me from a pig going to market. And I would
not be for liking it every day. My hair is what the blessed Saints
sent me, and I see no such fine hair around me that people are free to
throw the laugh at me."

"Peace!" said I.

Their horses were tied in an adjacent thicket. I sent Paddy off with
my lame mount, giving him full instructions as to his lies. I and Jem
Bottles took the other horses and rode toward Bath.

Where a certain lane turned off from the highway I parted with Jem
Bottles, and he rode away between the hedges. I cantered into Bath.

The best-known inn was ablaze with fleeting lights, and people were
shouting within. It was some time before I could gain a man to look
after my horse. Of him I demanded the reason of the disturbance. "The
Earl of Westport's carriage has been robbed on the Bristol road, sir,"
he cried excitedly. "There be parties starting out. I pray they catch
him."

"And who would they be catching, my lad," said I.

"Jem Bottles, damn him, sir," answered the man. "But 'tis a fierce
time they will have, for he stands no less than eight feet in his
boots, and his eyes are no human eyes, but burn blood-red always. His
hands are adrip with blood, and 'tis said that he eats human flesh,
sir. He surely is a devil, sir."

"From the description I would be willing to believe it," said I.
"However, he will be easy to mark. Such a monster can hardly be
mistaken for an honest man."

I entered the inn, while a boy staggered under my valises. I had
difficulty in finding the landlord. But in the corridor were a number
of travellers, and evidently one had come that day from Bristol, for
he suddenly nudged another and hurriedly whispered:

"'Tis him! The great Irish swordsman!"

Then the news spread like the wind, apparently, that the man who had
beaten the great Forister was arrived in good health at the inn. There
were murmurs, and a great deal of attention, and many eyes. I suddenly
caught myself swaggering somewhat. It is hard to be a famous person
and not show a great swollen chicken-breast to the people. They are
disappointed if you do not strut and step high. "Show me to a
chamber," said I splendidly. The servants bowed their foreheads to the
floor.

But the great hubbub over the Earl's loss continued without abatement.
Gentlemen clanked down in their spurs; there was much talk of
dragoons; the tumult was extraordinary. Upstairs the landlord led me
past the door of a kind of drawing-room. I glanced within and saw the
Earl of Westport gesturing and declaiming to a company of gentlemen.
He was propped up in a great arm-chair.

"And why would he be waving his hands that way?" said I to two
servants who stood without.

"His lordship has lost many valuable papers at the hands of a
miscreant, sir," answered one.

"Is it so?" said I. "Well, then, I would see his lordship."

But here this valet stiffened. "No doubt but what his lordship would
be happy to see you, sir," he answered slowly. "Unfortunately,
however, he has forbidden me to present strangers to his presence."

"I have very important news. Do not be an idiot," said I. "Announce
me. The O'Ruddy."

"The O'Ruggy?" said he.

"The O'Ruddy," said I.

"The O'Rudgy?" said he.

"No," said I, and I told him again. Finally he took two paces within
the room and sung out in a loud voice:

"The O'Rubby."

I heard the voice of the sick old Earl calling out from his great
chair. "Why, 'tis the Irishman. Bid him enter. I am glad--I am always
very glad--ahem!--"

As I strode into the room I was aware of another buzz of talk.
Apparently here, too, were plenty of people who knew me as the famous
swordsman. The Earl moved his jaw and mumbled.

"Aye," said he at last, "here is The O'Ruddy. And, do you know, Mr.
O'Ruddy, I have been foully robbed, and, among other things, have lost
your worthless papers?"

"I heard that you had lost them," I answered composedly. "But I refuse
to take your word that they are worthless."

Many people stared, and the Earl gave me a firm scowl. But after
consideration he spoke as if he thought it well to dissemble a great
dislike of me. The many candles burned very brightly, and we could all
see each other. I thought it better to back casually toward the wall.

"You never accomplish anything," coughed the sick Earl. "Yet you are
for ever prating of yourself. I wish my son were here. My papers are
gone. I shall never recover them."

"The papers are in the breast of my coat at this moment," said I
coolly.

There was a great tumult. The Earl lost his head and cried:

"Seize him!" Two or three young men took steps toward me. I was back
to the wall, and in a leisurely and contemptuous way I drew my sword.

"The first gentleman who advances is a dead man," said I pleasantly.

Some drew away quickly; some hesitated, and then withdrew subtilely.
In the mean time the screeches of the Earl mocked them all.

"Aye, the wild Irishman brings you up to a stand, he does! Now who
will have at him? In all Bath I have no friend with a stout heart?"

After looking them over I said:

"No, my Lord, you have none."

At this insult the aged peer arose from his chair. "Bring me my
sword," he cried to his valet. A hush fell upon us all. We were
rendered immovable by the solemn dignity of this proceeding.

It was some time before I could find my tongue.

"And if you design to cross blades with me, you will find me a sad
renegade," said I. "I am holding the papers for the hands of their
true owner."

"And their true owner?" he demanded.

"Lady Mary Strepp," said I.

He sank back into his seat. "This Irishman's impudence is beyond
measuring," he exclaimed. The hurrying valet arrived at that moment
with a sword. "Take it away! Take it away!" he cried. "Do I wish
valets to be handing swords to me at any time of the day or night?"

Here a belligerent red-faced man disengaged himself abruptly from the
group of gentlemen and addressed the Earl. "Westport," said he flatly,
"I can ill bear your taunt concerning your Bath friends, and this is
not to speak of the insolence of the person yonder."

"Oh, ho!" said I. "Well, and the person yonder remains serene in his
insolence."

The Earl, smiling slightly, regarded the new speaker.

"Sir Edmund Flixton was ever a dainty swordsman, picking and choosing
like a lady in a flower-bed. Perchance he is anxious to fight the
gentleman who has just given Reginald Forister something he will not
forget?"

At this Flixton actually turned pale and drew back. Evidently he had
not yet heard the news. And, mind you, I could see that he would fight
me the next moment. He would come up and be killed like a gentleman.
But the name of a great conqueror had simply appalled him and smitten
him back.

The Earl was gazing at me with an entirely new expression. He had
cleverly eliminated all dislike from his eyes. He covered me with a
friendly regard.

"O'Ruddy," he said softly, "I would have some private speech with you.
Come into my chamber."

The Earl leaned on the shoulder of his valet and a little fat doctor,
and walked painfully into another room. I followed, knowing that I was
now to withstand a subtle, wheedling, gentle attempt to gain the
papers without the name of Lady Mary being mentioned.

The Earl was slowly lowered into a great chair. After a gasp of relief
he devoted a brightening attention to me. "You are not a bad fellow,
O'Ruddy," he observed. "You remind me greatly of your father. Aye, he
was a rare dog, a rare dog!"

"I've heard him say so, many is the day, sir," I answered.

"Aye, a rare dog!" chuckled the old man. "I have in my memory some
brisk pictures of your father with his ready tongue, his
what-the-devil-does-it-matter-sir, and that extraordinary
swordsmanship which you seem to have inherited."

"My father told me you were great friends in France," I answered
civilly, "but from some words you let drop in Bristol I judged that he
was mistaken."

"Tut," said the Earl. "You are not out of temper with me, are you,
O'Ruddy?"

"With me happily in possession of the papers," I rejoined, "I am in
good temper with everybody. 'Tis not for me to lose my good nature
when I hold all the cards."

The Earl's mouth quickly dropped to a sour expression, but almost as
quickly he put on a pleasant smile. "Aye," he said, nodding his sick
head. "Always jovial, always jovial. Precisely like his father. In
fact it brings back an old affection."

"If the old affection had been brought back a little earlier, sir,"
said I, "we all would have had less bother. 'Twas you who in the
beginning drew a long face and set a square chin over the business. I
am now in the mood to be rather airy."

Our glances blazed across each other.

"But," said the Earl in the gentlest of voices, "you have my papers,
O'Ruddy, papers entrusted to you by your dying father to give into the
hands of his old comrade. Would you betray such a sacred trust? Could
you wanton yourself to the base practices of mere thievery?"

"'Tis not I who has betrayed any trust," I cried boldly. "I brought
the papers and wished to offer them. They arrived in your possession,
and you cried 'Straw, straw!' Did you not?"

"'Twas an expedient, O'Ruddy," said the Earl.

"There is more than one expedient in the world," said I. "I am now
using the expedient of keeping the papers."

And in the glance which he gave me I saw that I had been admitted
behind a certain barrier. He was angry, but he would never more
attempt to overbear me with grand threats. And he would never more
attempt to undermine me with cheap flattery. We had measured one
against the other, and he had not come away thinking out of his
proportion. After a time he said:

"What do you propose to do, Mr. O'Ruddy?"

I could not help but grin at him. "I propose nothing," said I. "I am
not a man for meaning two things when I say one."

"You've said one thing, I suppose?" he said slowly.

"I have," said I.

"And the one thing?" said he.

"Your memory is as good as mine," said I.

He mused deeply and at great length. "You have the papers?" he asked
finally.

"I still have them," said I.

"Then," he cried with sudden vehemence, "why didn't you read the
papers and find out the truth?"

I almost ran away.

"Your--your lordship," I stammered, "I thought perhaps in London--in
London perhaps--I might get a--I would try to get a tutor."




CHAPTER XIII


"So that is the way of it, is it?" said the Earl, grinning. "And why
did you not take it to some clerk?"

"My lord," said I with dignity, "the papers were with me in trust for
you. A man may be a gentleman and yet not know how to read and write."

"'Tis quite true," answered he.

"And when I spoke of the tutor in London I did not mean to say that I
would use what knowledge he imparted to read your papers. I was merely
blushing for the defects in my education, although Father Donovan
often said that I knew half as much as he did, poor man, and him a
holy father. If you care to so direct me, I can go even now to my
chamber and make shift to read the papers."

"The Irish possess a keen sense of honour," said he admiringly.

"We do," said I. "We possess more integrity and perfect sense of
honour than any other country in the world, although they all say the
same of themselves, and it was my own father who often said that he
would trust an Irishman as far as he could see him and no more, but
for a foreigner he had only the length of an eyelash."

"And what do you intend with the papers now, O'Ruddy?" said he.

"I intend as I intended," I replied. "There is no change in me."

"And your intentions?" said he.

"To give them into the hands of Lady Mary Strepp and no other," said I
boldly.

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"Lady Mary Strepp, my daughter," he said in ironic musing. "Would not
her mother do, O'Ruddy?" he asked softly.

I gave a start.

"She is not near?" I demanded, looking from here to there.

He laughed.

"Aye, she is. I can have her here to take the papers in one short
moment."

I held up my hands.

"No--no--"

"Peace," said he with a satanic chuckle. "I was only testing your
courage."

"My lord," said I gravely, "seeing a bare blade come at your breast is
one thing, and running around a table is another, and besides you have
no suitable table in this chamber."

The old villain laughed again.

"O'Ruddy," he cried, "I would be a well man if you were always near
me. Will I have a table fetched up from below?--'twould be easy."

Here I stiffened.

"My lord, this is frivolity," I declared. "I came here to give the
papers. If you do not care to take them in the only way in which I
will give them, let us have it said quickly."

"They seem to be safe in your hands at present," he remarked. "Of
course after you go to London and get a tutor--ahem!--"

"I will be starting at once," said I, "although Father Donovan always
told me that he was a good tutor as tutors went at the time in
Ireland. And I want to be saying now, my lord, that I cannot
understand you. At one moment you are crying one thing of the papers;
at the next moment you are crying another. At this time you are having
a laugh with me over them. What do you mean? I'll not stand this
shiver-shavering any longer, I'll have you to know. What do you mean?"

He raised himself among his cushions and fixed me with a bony finger.

"What do I mean? I'll tell you, O'Ruddy," said he, while his eyes
shone brightly. "I mean that I can be contemptuous of your plot. You
will not show these papers to any breathing creature because you are
in love with my daughter. Fool, to match your lies against an
ex-minister of the King."

My eyes must have almost dropped from my head, but as soon as I
recovered from my dumfounderment I grew amazed at the great intellect
of this man. I had told nobody, and yet he knew all about it. Yes, I
was in love with Lady Mary, and he was as well informed of it as if he
had had spies to watch my dreams. And I saw that in many cases a lover
was a kind of an ostrich, the bird which buries its head in the sands
and thinks it is secure from detection. I wished that my father had
told me more about love, for I have no doubt he knew everything of it,
he had lived so many years in Paris. Father Donovan, of course, could
not have helped me in such instruction. I resolved, any how, to be
more cautious in the future, although I did not exactly see how I
could improve myself. The Earl's insight was pure mystery to me. I
would not be for saying that he practised black magic, but any how, if
he had been at Glandore, I would have had him chased through three
parishes.

However, the Earl was grinning victoriously, and I saw that I must
harden my face to a brave exterior.

"And is it so?" said I. "Is it so?"

"Yes," he said, with his grin.

"And what then?" said I bluntly.

In his enjoyment he had been back again among his cushions.

"'What then? What then?'" he snarled, rearing up swiftly. "Why, then
you are an insolent fool: Begone from me! begone! be--" Here some
spasm overtook him, a spasm more from rage than from the sickness. He
fell back breathless, although his eyes continued to burn at me.

"My lord," said I, bowing, "I will go no poorer than when I came, save
that I have lost part of the respect I once had for you."

I turned and left his chamber. Some few gentlemen yet remained in the
drawing-room as I passed out into the public part of the inn. I went
quietly to a chamber and sat down to think. I was for ever going to
chambers and sitting down to think after these talks with the Earl,
during which he was for ever rearing up in his chair and then falling
back among the cushions.

But here was another tumble over the cliffs, if you like! Here was
genuine disaster. I laid my head in my hands and mused before my
lonely fire, drinking much and visioning my ruin. What the Earl said
was true. There was trouble in the papers for the old nobleman. That
he knew. That I knew. And he knew with his devilish wisdom that I
would lose my head rather than see her in sorrow. Well, I could bide a
time. I would go to London in company with Paddy and Jem Bottles,
since they owned all the money, and if three such rogues could not
devise something, then I would go away and bury myself in a war in
foreign parts, occupying myself in scaling fortresses and capturing
guns. These things I know I could have performed magnificently, but
from the Earl I had learned that I was an ill man to conduct an affair
of the heart.

I do not know how long I meditated, but suddenly there was a great
tumult on the stairs near my door. There were the shouts and heavy
breathings of men, struggling, and over all rang a screech as from
some wild bird. I ran to the door and poked my head discreetly out;
for my coat and waistcoat were off as well as my sword, and I wished
to see the manner of tumult at a distance before I saw it close. As I
thrust forth my head I heard a familiar voice:

"And if ye come closer, ye old hell-cat, 'tis me will be forgetting
respect to my four great-grandmothers and braining you. Keep off! Am I
not giving ye the word? Keep off!"

Then another familiar voice answered him in a fine high fury. "And you
gallows-bird, you gallows-bird, you gallows-bird! You answer me, do
you! They're coming, all, even to the hangman! You'll soon know how to
dance without a fiddler! Ah, would you? Would you?"

If I had been afflicted with that strange malady of the body which
sometimes causes men to fall to the ground and die in a moment without
a word, my doom would have been sealed. It was Paddy and Hoity-Toity
engaged in animated discussion.

"And if ye don't mind your eye, ye old cormorant--" began Paddy.

"And you would be a highwayman, would you, gallows-bird--" began the
Countess.

"Cow--" began Paddy.

Here for many reasons I thought it time to interfere. "Paddy!" I
cried. He gave a glance at my door, recognized my face, and, turning
quickly, ran through into my chamber. I barred the door even as
Hoity-Toity's fist thundered on the oak.

"It's a she-wolf," gasped Paddy, his chest pressing in and out.

"And what did you do to her?" I demanded.

"Nothing but try to run away, sure," said Paddy.

"And why would she be scratching you?"

"She saw me for one of the highwaymen robbing the coach, and there was
I, devil knowing what to do, and all the people of the inn trying to
put peace upon her, and me dodging, and then--"

"Man," said I, grabbing his arm, "'tis a game that ends on the--"

"Never a bit," he interrupted composedly. "Wasn't the old witch drunk,
claws and all, and didn't even the great English lord, or whatever,
send his servant to bring her in, and didn't he, the big man, stand in
the door and spit on the floor and go in when he saw she was for
battering all the servants and using worse talk than the sailors I
heard in Bristol? It would not be me they were after, those men
running. It would be her. And small power to them, but they were no
good at it. I am for taking a stool in my hand--"

"Whist!" said I. "In England they would not be hitting great ladies
with stools. Let us hearken to the brawl. She is fighting them
finely."

For I had seen that Paddy spoke truth. The noble lady was engaged in
battling with servants who had been in pursuit of her when she was in
pursuit of Paddy. Never had I seen even my own father so drunk as she
was then. But the heart-rending thing was the humble protests of the
servants. "Your ladyship! Oh, your ladyship!"--as they came up one by
one, or two by two, obeying orders of the Earl, to be incontinently
boxed on the ears by a member of a profligate aristocracy. Probably
any one of them was strong enough to throw the beldame out at a
window. But such was not the manner of the time. One would think they
would retreat upon the Earl and ask to be dismissed from his service.
But this also was not the manner of the time. No; they marched up
heroically and took their cuffs on the head and cried: "Oh, your
ladyship! Please, your ladyship!" They were only pretenders in their
attacks; all they could do was to wait until she was tired, and then
humbly escort her to where she belonged, meanwhile pulling gently at
her arms.

"She was after recognizing you then?" said I to Paddy.

"Indeed and she was," said he. He had dropped into a chair and was
looking as if he needed a doctor to cure him of exhaustion. "She would
be after having eyes like a sea-gull. And Jem Bottles was all for
declaring that my disguise was complete, bad luck to the little man."

"Your disguise complete?" said I. "You couldn't disguise yourself
unless you stood your head in a barrel. What talk is this?"

"Sure an' I looked no more like myself than I looked like a wild man
with eight rows of teeth in his head," said Paddy mournfully. "My own
mother would have been after taking me for a horse. 'Tis that old
creature with her evil eye who would be seeing me when all the others
were blind as bats. I could have walked down the big street in Cork
without a man knowing me."

"That you could at any time," said I. The Countess had for some
moments ceased to hammer on my door. "Hearken! I think they are
managing her."

Either Hoity-Toity had lost heart, or the servants had gained some
courage, for we heard them dragging her delicately down the staircase.
Presently there was a silence.

After I had waited until this silence grew into the higher silence
which seems like perfect safety, I rang the bell and ordered food and
drink. Paddy had a royal meal, sitting on the floor by the fireplace
and holding a platter on his knee. From time to time I tossed him
something for which I did not care. He was very grateful for my
generosity. He ate in a barbaric fashion, crunching bones of fowls
between his great white teeth and swallowing everything.

I had a mind to discourse upon manners in order that Paddy might not
shame me when we came to London; for a gentleman is known by the ways
of his servants. If people of quality should see me attended by such
a savage they would put me down small. "Paddy," said I, "mend your
ways of eating."

"'My ways of eating,' your honour?" said he. "And am I not eating all
that I can hold? I was known to be a good man at platter always. Sure
I've seen no man in England eat more than me. But thank you kindly,
sir."

"You misunderstand me," said I. "I wish to improve your manner of
eating. It would not be fine enough for the sight of great people. You
eat, without taking breath, pieces as big as a block of turf."

"'Tis the custom in my part of Ireland," answered Paddy.

"I understand," said I. "But over here 'tis only very low people who
fall upon their meat from a window above."

"I am not in the way of understanding your honour," said he. "But any
how a man may be respectable and yet have a good hunger on him."




CHAPTER XIV


It had been said that the unexpected often happens, although I do not
know what learned man of the time succeeded in thus succinctly
expressing a great law and any how it matters little, for I have since
discovered that these learned men make one headful of brains go a long
way by dint of poaching on each other's knowledge. But the unexpected
happened in this case, all true enough whatever.

I was giving my man a bit of a warning.

"Paddy," said I, "you are big, and you are red, and you are Irish; but
by the same token you are not the great Fingal, son of lightning. I
would strongly give you the word. When you see that old woman you
start for the open moors."

"Devil fear me, sir," answered Paddy promptly. "I'll not be stopping.
I would be swimming to Ireland before she lays a claw on me."

"And mind you exchange no words with her," said I, "for 'tis that
which seems to work most wrongfully upon her."

"Never a word out of me," said he. "I'll be that busy getting up the
road."

There was another tumult in the corridor, with the same screeches by
one and the same humble protests by a multitude. The disturbance
neared us with surprising speed. Suddenly I recalled that when the
servant had retired after bringing food and drink I had neglected to
again bar the door. I rushed for it, but I was all too late. I saw the
latch raise. "Paddy!" I shouted wildly. "Mind yourself!" And with that
I dropped to the floor and slid under the bed.

Paddy howled, and I lifted a corner of the valance to see what was
transpiring. The door had been opened, and the Countess stood looking
into the room. She was no longer in a fiery rage; she was cool, deadly
determined, her glittering eye fixed on Paddy. She took a step
forward.

Paddy, in his anguish, chanted to himself an Irish wail in which he
described his unhappiness. "Oh, mother of me, and here I am caught
again by the old hell-cat, and sure the way she creeps toward me is
enough to put the fear of God in the heart of a hedge-robber, the
murdering old witch. And it was me was living so fine and grand in
England and greatly pleased with myself. Sorrow the day I left
Ireland; it is, indeed."

She was now close to him, and she seemed to be preparing for one
stupendous pounce which would mean annihilation to Paddy. Her lean
hands were thrust out, with the fingers crooked, and it seemed to me
that her fingers were very long. In despair Paddy changed his tune and
addressed her.

"Ah, now, alanna. Sure the kind lady would be for doing no harm? Be
easy, now, acushla."

But these tender appeals had no effect. Suddenly she pounced. Paddy
roared, and sprang backward with splendid agility. He seized a chair.

Now I am quite sure that before he came to England Paddy had never
seen a chair, although it is true that at some time in his life he may
have had a peep through a window into an Irish gentleman's house,
where there might be a chair if the King's officers in the
neighbourhood were not very ambitious and powerful. But Paddy handled
this chair as if he had seen many of them. He grasped it by the back
and thrust it out, aiming all four legs at the Countess. It was a fine
move. I have seen a moderately good swordsman fairly put to it by a
pack of scoundrelly drawers who assailed him at all points in this
manner.

"An you come on too fast," quavered Paddy, "ye can grab two legs, but
there will be one left for your eye and another for your brisket."

However she came on, sure enough, and there was a moment of scuffling
near the end of the bed out of my sight. I wriggled down to gain
another view, and when I cautiously lifted an edge of the valance my
eyes met the strangest sight ever seen in all England. Paddy, much
dishevelled and panting like a hunt-dog, had wedged the Countess
against the wall. She was pinioned by the four legs of the chair, and
Paddy, by dint of sturdily pushing at the chair-back, was keeping her
in a fixed position.

In a flash my mind was made up. Here was the time to escape. I
scrambled quickly from under the bed. "Bravo, Paddy!" I cried, dashing
about the room after my sword, coat, waistcoat, and hat. "Devil a fear
but you'll hold her, my bucko! Push hard, my brave lad, and mind your
feet don't slip!"

"If your honour pleases," said Paddy, without turning his eyes from
his conquest, "'tis a little help I would be wishing here. She would
be as strong in the shoulder as a good plough-horse and I am not for
staying here for ever."

"Bravo, my grand lad!" I cried, at last finding my hat, which had
somehow gotten into a corner. From the door I again addressed Paddy in
encouraging speech. "There's a stout-hearted boy for you! Hold hard,
and mind your feet don't slip!"

He cast a quick agonized look in my direction, and, seeing that I was
about basely to desert him, he gave a cry, dropped the chair, and
bolted after me. As we ran down the corridor I kept well in advance,
thinking it the best place in case the pursuit should be energetic.
But there was no pursuit. When Paddy was holding the Countess prisoner
she could only choke and stammer, and I had no doubt that she now was
well mastered by exhaustion.

Curiously there was little hubbub in the inn. The fact that the
Countess was the rioter had worked in a way to cause people to seek
secluded and darkened nooks. However, the landlord raised his bleat at
me. "Oh, sir, such a misfortune to befall my house just when so many
grand ladies and gentlemen are here."

I took him quietly by the throat and beat his head against the wall,
once, twice, thrice.

"And you allow mad ladies to molest your guests, do you?" said I.

"Sir," he stuttered, "could I have caused her to cease?

"True," I said, releasing him. "But now do as I bid you and quickly. I
am away to London. I have had my plenty of you and your mad ladies."

We started bravely to London, but we only went to another and quieter
inn, seeking peace and the absence of fear. I may say we found it,
and, in a chair before a good fire, I again took my comfort. Paddy sat
on the floor, toasting his shins. The warmth passed him into a
reflective mood.

"And I know all I need of grand ladies," he muttered, staring into the
fire. "I thought they were all for riding in gold coaches and smelling
of beautiful flowers, and here they are mad to be chasing Irishmen in
inns. I remember old Mag Cooligan fought with a whole regiment of
King's troops in Bantry, and even the drums stopped beating, the
soldiers were that much interested. But, sure, everybody would be
knowing that Mag was no grand lady, although Pat Cooligan, her
brother, was pig-killer to half the country-side. I am thinking we
were knowing little about grand ladies. One of the soldiers had his
head broke by a musket because the others were so ambitious to destroy
the old lady, and she scratching them all. 'Twas long remembered in
Bantry."

"Hold your tongue about your betters," said I sharply. "Don't be
comparing this Mag Cooligan with a real Countess."

"There would be a strange similarity any how," said he. "But, sure,
Mag never fought in inns, for the reason that they would not be
letting her inside."

"Remember how little you are knowing of them, Paddy," said I. "'Tis
not for you to be talking of the grand ladies when you have seen only
one, and you would not be knowing another from a fish. Grand ladies
are eccentric, I would have you to know. They have their ways with
them which are not for omadhauns like you to understand."

"Eccentric, is it?" said he. "I thought it would be some such
devilment."

"And I am knowing," said I with dignity, "of one lady so fine that if
you don't stop talking that way of ladies I will break your thick
skull for you, and it would matter to nobody."

"'Tis an ill subject for discussion, I am seeing that," said Paddy.
"But, faith, I could free Ireland with an army of ladies like one I've
seen."

"Will you be holding your tongue?" I cried wrathfully.

Paddy began to mumble to himself,--"Bedad, he was under the bed fast
enough without offering her a stool by the fire and a small drop of
drink which would be no more than decent with him so fond of her. I am
not knowing the ways of these people."

In despair of his long tongue I made try to change the talking.

"We are off for London, Paddy. How are you for it?"

"London, is it?" said he warily. "I was hearing there are many fine
ladies there."

For the second time in his life I cuffed him soundly on the ear.

"Now," said I, "be ringing the bell. I am for buying you a bit of
drink; but if you mention the gentry to me once more in that
blackguard way I'll lather you into a resemblance to your
grandfather's bones."

After a pleasant evening I retired to bed leaving Paddy snug asleep by
the fire. I thought much of my Lady Mary, but with her mother stalking
the corridors and her knowing father with his eye wide open, I knew
there was no purpose in hanging about a Bath inn. I would go to
London, where there were gardens, and walks in the park, and parties,
and other useful customs. There I would win my love.

The following morning I started with Paddy to meet Jem Bottles and
travel to London. Many surprising adventures were in store for us, but
an account of these I shall leave until another time, since one would
not be worrying people with too many words, which is a great fault in
a man who is recounting his own affairs.




CHAPTER XV


As we ambled our way agreeably out of Bath, Paddy and I employed
ourselves in worthy speech. He was not yet a notable horseman, but his
Irish adaptability was so great that he was already able to think he
would not fall off so long as the horse was old and tired.

"Paddy," said I, "how would you like to be an Englishman? Look at
their cities. Sure, Skibbereen is a mud-pond to them. It might be fine
to be an Englishman."

"I would not, your honour," said Paddy. "I would not be an Englishman
while these grand--But never mind; 'tis many proud things I will say
about the English considering they are our neighbours in one way; I
mean they are near enough to come over and harm us when they wish. But
any how they are a remarkable hard-headed lot, and in time they may
come to something good."

"And is a hard head such a qualification?" said I.

Paddy became academic. "I have been knowing two kinds of hard heads,"
he said. "Mickey McGovern had such a hard skull on him no stick in the
south of Ireland could crack it, though many were tried. And what
happened to him? He died poor as a rat. 'Tis not the kind of hard head
I am meaning. I am meaning the kind of hard head which believes it
contains all the wisdom and honour in the world. 'Tis what I mean. If
you have a head like that, you can go along blundering into ditches
and tumbling over your own shins, and still hold confidence in
yourself. 'Tis not very handsome for other men to see; but devil a bit
care you, for you are warm inside with complacence."

"Here is a philosopher, in God's truth," I cried. "And where were you
learning all this? In Ireland?"

"Your honour," said Paddy firmly, "you yourself are an Irishman. You
are not for saying there is no education in Ireland, for it educates a
man to see burning thatches and such like. One of them was my aunt's,
Heaven rest her!"

"Your aunt?" said I. "And what of your aunt? What have the English to
do with your aunt?"

"That's what she was asking them," said Paddy; "but they burned her
house down over a little matter of seventeen years' rent she owed to a
full-blooded Irishman, may the devil find him!"

"But I am for going on without an account of your burnt-thatch
education," said I. "You are having more than two opinions about the
English, and I would be hearing them. Seldom have I seen a man who
could gain so much knowledge in so short a space. You are interesting
me."

Paddy seemed pleased. "Well, your honour," said he confidentially,
"'tis true for you. I am knowing the English down to their toes."

"And if you were an Englishman, what kind of an Englishman would you
like to be?" said I.

"A gentleman," he answered swiftly. "A big gentleman!" Then he began
to mimic and make gestures in a way that told me he had made good use
of his eyes and of the society of underlings in the various inns.
"Where's me man? Send me man! Oh, here you are! And why didn't you
know I wanted you? What right have you to think I don't want you?
What? A servant dead? Pah! Send it down the back staircase at once and
get rid of it. Bedad!" said Paddy enthusiastically, "I could do that
fine!" And to prove what he said was true, he cried "Pah!" several
times in a lusty voice.

"I see you have quickly understood many customs of the time," said I.
"But 'tis not all of it. There are many quite decent people alive
now."

"'Tis strange we have never heard tell of them," said Paddy musingly.
"I have only heard of great fighters, blackguards, and beautiful
ladies, but sure, as your honour says, there must be plenty of quiet
decent people somewhere."

"There is," said I. "I am feeling certain of it, although I am not
knowing exactly where to lay my hand upon them."

"Perhaps they would be always at mass," said Paddy, "and in that case
your honour would not be likely to see them."

"Masses!" said I. "There are more masses said in Ireland in one hour
than here in two years."

"The people would be heathens, then?" said Paddy, aghast.

"Not precisely," said I. "But they have reformed themselves several
times, and a number of adequate reformations is a fine thing to
confuse the Church. In Ireland we are all for being true to the
ancient faith; here they are always for improving matters, and their
learned men study the Sacred Book solely with a view to making needed
changes."

"'Tis heathen they are," said Paddy with conviction. "I was knowing
it. Sure, I will be telling Father Corrigan the minute I put a foot on
Ireland, for nothing pleases him so much as a good obstinate heathen,
and he very near discourses the hair off their heads."

"I would not be talking about such matters," said I. "It merely makes
my head grow an ache. My father was knowing all about it; but he was
always claiming that if a heathen did his duty by the poor he was as
good as anybody, and that view I could never understand."

"Sure, if a heathen gives to the poor, 'tis poison to them," said
Paddy. "If it is food and they eat it, they turn black all over and
die the day after. If it is money, it turns red-hot and burns a hole
in their hand, and the devil puts a chain through it and drags them
down to hell, screeching."

"Say no more," said I. "I am seeing you are a true theologian of the
time. I would be talking on some more agreeable topic, something about
which you know less."

"I can talk of fishing," he answered diffidently. "For I am a great
fisherman, sure. And then there would be turf-cutting, and the deadly
stings given to men by eels. All these things I am knowing well."

"'Tis a grand lot to know," said I, "but let us be talking of London.
Have you been hearing of London?"

"I have been hearing much about the town," said Paddy. "Father
Corrigan was often talking of it. He was claiming it to be full of
loose women, and sin, and fighting in the streets during mass."

"I am understanding something of the same," I replied. "It must be an
evil city. I am fearing something may happen to you, Paddy,--you with
your red head as conspicuous as a clock in a tower. The gay people
will be setting upon you and carrying you off. Sure there has never
been anything like you in London."

"I am knowing how to be dealing with them. It will be all a matter of
religious up-bringing, as Father Corrigan was saying. I have but to go
to my devotions, and the devil will fly away with them."

"And supposing they have your purse?" said I. "The devil might fly
away with them to an ill tune for you."

"When they are flying away with my purse," he replied suggestively,
"they will be flying away with little of what could be called my
ancestral wealth."

"You are natural rogues," said I, "you and Jem Bottles. And you had
best not be talking of religion."

"Sure a man may take the purse of an ugly old sick monkey like him,
and still go with an open face to confession," rejoined Paddy, "and I
would not be backward if Father Corrigan's church was a mile beyond."

"And are you meaning that Father Corrigan would approve you in this
robbery?" I cried.

"Devil a bit he would, your honour," answered Paddy indignantly. "He
would be saying to me: 'Paddy, you limb of Satan, and how much did you
get?' I would be telling him. 'Give fifteen guineas to the Church, you
mortal sinner, and I will be trying my best for you,' he would be
saying. And I would be giving them."

"You are saved fifteen guineas by being in England, then," said I,
"for they don't do that here. And I am thinking you are traducing your
clergy, you vagabond."

"Traducing?" said he. "That would mean giving them money. Aye, I was
doing it often. One year I gave three silver shillings."

"You're wrong," said I. "By 'traducing' I mean speaking ill of your
priest."

"'Speaking ill of my priest'?" cried Paddy, gasping with amazement.
"Sure, my own mother never heard a word out of me!"

"However," said I, "we will be talking of other things. The English
land seems good."

Paddy cast his eye over the rainy landscape. "I am seeing no turf for
cutting," he remarked disapprovingly, "and the potatoes would not be
growing well here. 'Tis a barren country."

At nightfall we came to a little inn which was ablaze with light and
ringing with exuberant cries. We gave up our horses and entered. To
the left was the closed door of the taproom, which now seemed to
furnish all the noise. I asked the landlord to tell me the cause of
the excitement.

"Sir," he answered, "I am greatly honoured to-night. Mr. O'Ruddy, the
celebrated Irish swordsman, is within, recounting a history of his
marvellous exploits."

"Indeed!" said I.

"Bedad!" said Paddy.




CHAPTER XVI


Paddy was for opening his mouth wide immediately, but I checked him.
"I would see this great man," said I to the landlord, "but I am so
timid by nature I fear to meet his eagle eye. Is there no way by which
we could observe him in secret at our leisure?"

"There be one way," remarked the landlord after deliberation. I had
passed him a silver coin. He led us to a little parlour back of the
taproom. Here a door opened into the tap itself, and in this door was
cut a large square window so that the good man of the inn could
sometimes sit at his ease in his great chair in the snug parlour and
observe that his customers had only that for which they were paying.
It is a very good plan, for I have seen many a worthy man become a
rogue merely because nobody was watching him. My father often was
saying that if he had not been narrowly eyed all his young life, first
by his mother and then by his wife, he had little doubt but what he
might have been engaged in dishonest practices sooner or later.

A confident voice was doing some high talking in the taproom. I peered
through the window, but at first I saw only a collection of gaping
yokels, poor bent men with faces framed in straggly whiskers. Each had
a pint pot clutched with a certain air of determination in his right
hand.

Suddenly upon our line of vision strode the superb form of Jem
Bottles. A short pipe was in his mouth

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