Chapter XXX
The Major is very fortunate and very unfortunate—He receives a large sum in gold and one ounce of lead.
I dressed and went out, met Harcourt, dined with him, and on my return the Major had not come home. It was then past midnight, and feeling little inclination to sleep, I remained in the drawing-room, waiting for his arrival. About three o'clock he came in, flushed in the face, and apparently in high good humour.
"Newland," said he, throwing his pocket-book on the table, "just open that, and then you will open your eyes."
I obeyed him, and to my surprise took out a bundle of bank-notes; I counted up their value, and they amounted to £3500.
"You have been fortunate, indeed."
"Yes," replied the Major; "knowing that in a short time I shall be certain of cash, one way or the other, I had resolved to try my luck with the £500. I went to the hazard table, and threw in seventeen times—hedged upon the deuce ace, and threw out with it—voila. They won't catch me there again in a hurry—luck like that only comes once in a man's life; but, Japhet, there is a little drawback to all this. I shall require your kind attendance in two or three hours."
"Why, what's the matter?"
"Merely an affair of honour. I was insulted by a vagabond, and we meet at six o'clock."
"A vagabond—but surely, Carbonnell, you will not condescend—"
"My dear fellow, although as great a vagabond as there is on the face of the earth, yet he is a peer of the realm, and his title warrants the meeting—but, after all, what is it?"
"I trust it will be nothing, Carbonnell, but still it may prove otherwise."
"Granted; and what then, my dear Newland? we all owe Heaven a death, and if I am floored, why then I shall no longer be anxious about title or fortune."
"It's a bad way of settling a dispute," replied I, gravely.
"There is no other, Newland. How would society be held in check if it were not for duelling? We should all be a set of bears living in a bear-garden. I presume you have never been out?"
"Never," replied I, "and had hoped that I never should have."
"Then you must have better fortune, or better temper than most others, if you pass through life without an affair of this kind on your hands. I mean as principal, not as second. But, my dear fellow, I must give you a little advice, relative to your behaviour as a second; for I'm very particular on these occasions, and like that things should be done very correctly. It will never do, my dear Newland, that you appear on the ground with that melancholy face. I do not mean that you should laugh, or even smile, that would be equally out of character, but you should show yourself perfectly calm and indifferent. In your behaviour towards the other second, you must be most scrupulously polite, but, at the same time, never give up a point of dispute, in which my interest may be concerned. Even in your walk be slow, and move, as much as the ground will allow you, as if you were in a drawing-room. Never remain silent; offer even trivial remarks, rather than appear distract. There is one point of great importance—I refer to choosing the ground, in which, perhaps, you will require my unperceived assistance. Any decided line behind me would be very advantageous to my adversary, such as the trunk of a tree, post, &c.; even an elevated light or dark ground behind me is unadvisable. Choose, if you can, a broken light, as it affects the correctness of the aim; but as you will not probably be able to manage this satisfactorily, I will assist you. When on the ground, after having divided the sun fairly between us, I will walk about unconcernedly, and when I perceive a judicious spot, I will take a pinch of snuff and use my handkerchief, turning at the same time in the direction in which I wish my adversary to be placed. Take your cue from that, and with all suavity of manner, insist as much as you can upon our being so placed. That must be left to your own persuasive powers. I believe I have now stated all that is necessary, and I must prepare my instruments."
The major then went into his own room, and I never felt more nervous or more unhinged than after this conversation. I had a melancholy foreboding—but that I believe every one has, when he, for the first time, has to assist at a mortal rencontre. I was in a deep musing when he returned with his pistols and all the necessary apparatus; and when the Major pointed out to me, and made me once or twice practice the setting of the hair triggers, which is the duty of the second, an involuntary shudder came over me.
"Why, Newland, what is the matter with you? I thought that you had more nerve."
"I probably should show more, Carbonnell, were I the principal instead of the second, but I cannot bear the reflection that some accident should happen to you. You are the only one with whom I have been on terms of friendship, and the idea of losing you, is very, very painful."
"Newland, you really quite unman me, and you may now see a miracle," continued Carbonnell, as he pressed his hand to his eye, "the moisture of a tear on the cheek of a London roué, a man of the world, who has long lived for himself and for this world only. It never would be credited if asserted. Newland, there was a time when I was like yourself—the world took advantage of my ingenuousness and inexperience; my good feelings were the cause of my ruin, and then, by degrees, I became as callous and as hardened as the world itself. My dear fellow, I thought all affection, all sentiment, dried up within me, but it is not the case. You have made me feel that I have still a heart, and that I can love you. But this is all romance, and not fitted for the present time. It is now five o'clock, let us be on the ground early—it will give us an advantage."
"I do not much like speaking to you on the subject, Carbonnell; but is there nothing that you might wish done in case of accident?"
"Nothing—why yes. I may as well. Give me a sheet of paper." The Major sat down and wrote for a few minutes. "Now, send Timothy and another here. Timothy, and you, sir, see me sign this paper, and put my seal to it. I deliver this as my act and deed. Put your names as witnesses." They complied with his request, and then the Major desired Timothy to call a hackney-coach. "Newland," said the Major, putting the paper, folded up, in my pocket, along with the bank notes, "take care of this for me till we come back."
"The coach is at the door, sir," said Timothy, looking at me, as if to say, "What can all this be about?"
"You may come with us and see," said the Major, observing Tim's countenance, "and put that case into the coach." Tim, who knew that it was the Major's case of pistols, appeared still more alarmed, and stood still without obeying the order. "Never mind, Tim, your master is not the one who is to use them," said the Major, patting him on the shoulder.
Timothy, relieved by this intelligence, went down stairs with the pistols; we followed him. Tim mounted on the box, and we drove to Chalk Farm. "Shall the coach wait?" inquired Timothy.
"Yes, by all means," replied I, in a low voice. We arrived at the usual ground, where disputes of this kind were generally settled; and the Major took a survey of it with great composure.
"Now observe, Japhet," said he, "if you can contrive—; but here they are. I will give you the notice agreed upon." The peer, whose title was Lord Tineholme, now came up with his second, whom he introduced to me as Mr Osborn. "Mr Newland," replied the Major, saluting Mr Osborn in return. We both took off our hats, bowed, and then proceeded to our duty. I must do my adversary's second the justice to say, that his politeness was fully equal to mine. There was no mention, on either side, of explanations and retractions—the insult was too gross, and the character of his lordship, as well as that of Major Carbonnell, was too well known. Twelve paces were proposed by Mr Osborn, and agreed to by me—the pistols of Major Carbonnell were gained by drawing lots—we had nothing more to do but to place our principals. The Major took out his snuff-box, took a pinch, and blew his nose, turning towards a copse of beech trees.
"With your permission, I will mark out the ground, Mr Osborn," said I, walking up to the Major, and intending to pace twelve paces in the direction towards which he faced.
"Allow me to observe that I think a little more in this direction, would be more fair for both parties," said Mr Osborn.
"It would so, my dear sir," replied I, "but, submitting to your superior judgment, perhaps it may not have struck you that my principal will have rather too much of the sun. I am incapable of taking any advantage, but I should not do my duty if I did not see every justice done to the Major, who has confided to me in this unpleasant affair. I put it to you, sir, as a gentleman and man of honour, whether I am claiming too much?" A little amicable altercation took place on this point, but finding that I would not yield, and that at every reply I was more and more polite and bland in my deportment, Mr Osborn gave up the point. I walked the twelve paces, and Mr Osborn placed his principal. I observed that Lord Tineholme did not appear pleased; he expostulated with him, but it was then too late. The pistols had been already loaded—the choice was given to his lordship, and Major Carbonnell received the other from my hand, which actually trembled, while his was firm. I requested Mr Osborn to drop the handkerchief, as I could not make up my mind to give a signal which might be fatal to the Major. They fired—Lord Tineholme fell immediately—the Major remained on his feet for a second or two, and then sank down on the ground. I hastened up to him. "Where are you hurt?"
The Major put his hand to his hip—"I am hit hard, Newland, but not so hard as he is. Run and see."
I left the Major, and went up to where Lord Tineholme lay, his head raised on the knee of his second.
"It is all over with him, Mr Newland, the ball has passed through his brain."