His heart was on fire: all his old passion for the Rose had flashed up again at the sight of her with a lover;--and that lover a Spaniard! He would cut his throat for him, if steel could do it!
Only he recollected that Salterne was there, and shrank from exposing Rose; and shrank, too, as every gentleman should, from making a public quarrel in another man's house.Never mind.Where there was a will there was a way.He could get him into a corner, and quarrel with him privately about the cut of his beard, or the color of his ribbon.So in he went; and, luckily or unluckily, found standing together apart from the rest, Sir Richard, the Don, and young St.Leger.
"Well, Don Guzman, you have given us wine-bibbers the slip this afternoon.I hope you have been well employed in the meanwhile?""Delightfully to myself, senor," said the Don, who, enraged at being interrupted, if not discovered, was as ready to fight as Cary, but disliked, of course, an explosion as much as he did; "and to others, I doubt not.""So the ladies say," quoth St.Leger."He has been making them all cry with one of his stories, and robbing us meanwhile of the pleasure we had hoped for from some of his Spanish songs.""The devil take Spanish songs!" said Cary, in a low voice, but loud enough for the Spaniard.Don Guzman clapt his hand on his sword-hilt instantly.
"Lieutenant Cary," said Sir Richard, in a stern voice, "the wine has surely made you forget yourself!""As sober as yourself, most worshipful knight; but if you want a Spanish song, here's one; and a very scurvy one it is, like its subject--"Don Desperado Walked on the Prado, And there he met his enemy.
He pulled out a knife, a, And let out his life, a, And fled for his own across the sea."And he bowed low to the Spaniard.
The insult was too gross to require any spluttering.
"Senor Cary, we meet?"
"I thank your quick apprehension, Don Guzman Maria Magdalena Sotomayor de Soto.When, where, and with what weapons?""For God's sake, gentlemen! Nephew Arthur, Cary is your guest; do you know the meaning of this?"St.Leger was silent.Cary answered for him.
"An old Irish quarrel, I assure you, sir.A matter of years'
standing.In unlacing the senor's helmet, the evening that he was taken prisoner, I was unlucky enough to twitch his mustachios.You recollect the fact, of course, senor?""Perfectly," said the Spaniard; and then, half-amused and half-pleased, in spite of his bitter wrath, at Cary's quickness and delicacy in shielding Rose, he bowed, and--"And it gives me much pleasure to find that he whom I trust to have the pleasure of killing tomorrow morning is a gentleman whose nice sense of honor renders him thoroughly worthy of the sword of a De Soto."Cary bowed in return, while Sir Richard, who saw plainly enough that the excuse was feigned, shrugged his shoulders.
"What weapons, senor?" asked Will again.
"I should have preferred a horse and pistols," said Don Guzman after a moment, half to himself, and in Spanish; "they make surer work of it than bodkins; but" (with a sigh and one of his smiles)"beggars must not be choosers."
"The best horse in my stable is at your service, senor," said Sir Richard Grenville, instantly.
"And in mine also, senor," said Cary; "and I shall be happy to allow you a week to train him, if he does not answer at first to a Spanish hand.""You forget in your courtesy, gentle sir, that the insult being with me, the time lies with me also.We wipe it off to-morrow morning with simple rapiers and daggers.Who is your second?""Mr.Arthur St.Leger here, senor: who is yours?"The Spaniard felt himself alone in the world for one moment; and then answered with another of his smiles,--"Your nation possesses the soul of honor.He who fights an Englishman needs no second.""And he who fights among Englishmen will always find one," said Sir Richard."I am the fittest second for my guest.""You only add one more obligation, illustrious cavalier, to a two-years' prodigality of favors, which I shall never be able to repay.""But, Nephew Arthur," said Grenville, "you cannot surely be second against your father's guest, and your own uncle.""I cannot help it, sir; I am bound by an oath, as Will can tell you.I suppose you won't think it necessary to let me blood?""You half deserve it, sirrah!" said Sir Richard, who was very angry: but the Don interposed quickly.
"Heaven forbid, senors! We are no French duellists, who are mad enough to make four or six lives answer for the sins of two.This gentleman and I have quarrel enough between us, I suspect, to make a right bloody encounter.""The dependence is good enough, sir," said Cary, licking his sinful lips at the thought."Very well.Rapiers and shirts at three tomorrow morning--Is that the bill of fare? Ask Sir Richard where, Atty? It is against punctilio now for me to speak to him till after I am killed.""On the sands opposite.The tide will be out at three.And now, gallant gentlemen, let us join the bowlers."And so they went back and spent a merry evening, all except poor Rose, who, ere she went back, had poured all her sorrows into Lady Grenville's ear.For the kind woman, knowing that she was motherless and guileless, carried her off into Mrs.St.Leger's chamber, and there entreated her to tell the truth, and heaped her with pity but with no comfort.For indeed, what comfort was there to give?
.......
Three o'clock, upon a still pure bright midsummer morning.A broad and yellow sheet of ribbed tide-sands, through which the shallow river wanders from one hill-foot to the other, whispering round dark knolls of rock, and under low tree-fringed cliffs, and banks of golden broom.A mile below, the long bridge and the white walled town, all sleeping pearly in the soft haze, beneath a cloudless vault of blue.The white glare of dawn, which last night hung high in the northwest, has travelled now to the northeast, and above the wooded wall of the hills the sky is flushing with rose and amber.