Part 14 (1/2)
”Enough!” the German gasped.
”Swartzberg,” he said, turning to his friend, ”make the arrangements; for I vow I will kill this insolent puppy in the morning.”
Lord Fairholm at once stepped forward to the Hessian captain.
”I shall have the honour to act as Mr. Holliday's second. Here is my card. I shall be at home all the evening.”
Rupert now resumed his seat, while Captain Muller and his friend moved to the other end of the saloon. Here he was surrounded by a number of German officers, who endeavoured to dissuade him from fighting a duel in which the killing of his adversary would be condemned by the whole army as child murder.
”Child or not,” he said ferociously, ”he dies tomorrow. You think he was mad to insult me. It was conceit, not madness. His head is turned; a fencing master once praised his skill at fence, and he thinks himself a match for me--me! the best swordsman, though I say it, in the German army. No, I would not have forced a quarrel on him, for he is beneath my notice; but I am right glad that he has taken up the glove I meant to throw down to his fellow. In killing him I shall not only have punished the only person who has for many years ventured to insult Otto Muller, but I shall have done a service to a friend.”
No sooner had Rupert regained his seat than Dillon exclaimed, ”Rupert, I shall never forgive myself. Others think you are mad, but I know that you sacrifice yourself to save me.
”You did me an ill service, my lord,” he said, turning to Lord Fairholm, ”by holding me back when I would have taken my proper place. I shall never hold up my head again. But it will not be for long, for when he has killed Rupert I will seek him wherever he may go, and force him to kill me, too.”
”My dear Dillon, I knew what I was doing,” Lord Fairholm said. ”It was clear that either he or you had to meet this German cutthroat.”
”But,” Dillon asked, in astonishment, ”why would you rather that your friend Rupert should be killed than I?”
”You are not putting the case fairly,” Lord Fairholm said. ”Did it stand so, I should certainly prefer that you should run this risk than that Rupert should do so. But the case stands thus. In the first place, it is really his quarrel; and in the second, while it is certain that this German could kill you without fail, it is by no means certain that he will kill Rupert.”
Dillon's eyes opened with astonishment.
”Not kill him! Do you think that he will spare him after the way he has been insulted before all of us?”
”No, there is little chance of that. It is his power, not his will, that I doubt. I do not feel certain; far from it, I regard the issue as doubtful; and yet I feel a strong confidence in the result; for you must know, Master Dillon, that Rupert Holliday, boy as he is, is probably the best swordsman in the British army.”
”Rupert Holliday!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Dillon, incredulously.
Lord Fairholm nodded.
”It is as I say, Dillon; and although they say this German is also the best in his, his people are in no way famous that way. Had it been with the best swordsman in the French army that Rupert had to fight, my mind would be less at ease.
”But come now, we have finished our liquor and may as well be off.
We are the centre of all eyes here, and it is not pleasant to be a general object of pity, even when that pity is ill bestowed.
Besides, I have promised to be at home to wait for Muller's second.
”I will come round to your quarters, Rupert, when I have arranged time and place.”
The calm and a.s.sured manner of Rupert's two friends did more to convince Dillon that they were speaking in earnest, and that they really had confidence in Rupert's skill, than any a.s.severation on their part could have done, but he was still astounded at the news that this boy friend of his, who had never even mentioned that he could fence, could by any possibility be not only a first-rate swordsman, but actually a fair match for this noted duellist.
Upon the way up to the barracks, Rupert persuaded his friend to say nothing as to his skill, but it was found impossible to remain silent, for when the officers heard of the approaching duel there was a universal cry of indignation, and the colonel at once avowed his intention of riding off to Lord Athlone to request him to put a stop to a duel which could be nothing short of murder.
”The honour of the regiment shall not suffer,” he said, sternly, ”for I myself will meet this German cutthroat.”
Seeing that his colonel was resolute, Rupert made a sign to Dillon that he might speak, and he accordingly related to his astonished comrades the substance of what Lord Fairholm had told him. Rupert's brother officers could not believe the news; but Rupert suggested that the matter could be easily settled if some foils were brought, adding that half-an-hour's fencing would be useful to him, and get his hand into work again. The proposal was agreed to, and first one and then another of those recognized as the best swordsmen of the regiment, took their places against him, but without exerting himself in the slightest, he proved himself so infinitely their superior that their doubts speedily changed into admiration, and the meeting of the morrow was soon regarded with a feeling of not only hope, but confidence.
It was late before Lord Fairholm rode up to the cornet's.