The Four Canadian Highwaymen; Or, The Robbers of Markham Swamp

by J. E. Collins

CHAPTER II.

A GATHERING STORM.

'Oh! We had better go to dinner, then, had we not: I presume it is about ready.'

'Stay, will you not wear this at dinner?' stooping for a pansy that flourished among the late autumn blossoms.

'Keep if for remembrance when I am away.'

'Oh, but flowers fade; and I could only remember you for a couple of days.'

'Why not press it between the leaves of a book?'

'Oh, I will do that; and I will remember your lecture every time that I open the volume.'

'Thank you; but if you can't think a little bit about myself, I don't want you to bother about my lecture. You can feast yourself in contemplation of your loud and gorgeous friend, Mr. Ham.'

They had entered the house: and at the same moment Asters father and Mr. Ham came in. It was quite plain that these two men were confidential friends; for as they entered the room the host had his arm within that of his guest, and both were so engrossed in their subject—talking in a low tone—that they seemed for a time unconscious of the presence of Aster and Roland. When the host did raise his head he simply gave a cold bow to Roland; and then bestowed a sharp glance upon his daughter. Nor was the rudeness of the host to end here. Turning his back upon Roland he said:

'Mr. Ham and I have been discussing the Marsh, and he thinks that I had better go on with the drainage.'

'It will bring in two years all the money expended in reclaiming it,' put in Mr. Ham. 'Don't you think so, Aster?'

'I don't know, Mr. Ham; I really know very little about such matters.' At this juncture Roland's temper was asserting itself under the slight by the rude parent; so he stepped in among the trio, and looking the girl in the face, said:

'You are quite right, Aster, not to bother your head about bogs and swamps. Let the men attend to all that.' The father was simply amazed; and drawing himself up to his full height he frowned upon the young man. He said nothing, however, and to break the embarrassing silence Aster chimed in:

'I suppose that the city girls of your acquaintance never meddle in such matters; but the truth is, papa always consults me about these things.'

'In the city,' retorted her father, stiffly, 'young women have other concerns; but a girl who is to become a farmer's wife should make the management of stock and the tillage of the soil serious subjects of study.'

'Most certainly,' replied Roland; 'if a girl is to become the wife of a husbandman the farm should be her great concern. But I was not aware that Aster had seriously contemplated taking such a step.'

'I presume, sir,' replied the father, his voice quivering with displeasure,' that there are many of my daughter's affairs which she does not feel bound to disclose to strangers.'

'I had thought that I might congratulate myself as one upon the list of your daughter's friends. Was I not right, Aster?

'I always felt great pleasure, Mr. Gray, in regarding you as my friend, as one of my most sincere friends. Her colour had risen as she ended this sentence; and there was a slight tone of defiance in her voice.

'A fact of which I was not aware,' her father replied, with still rising choler.

'But you should not be too hard upon Aster,' put in Mr. Ham. 'Girls thoughtlessly form friendships. You'll forgive her, I know, for this indiscretion.' Aster turned upon him a look of infinite scorn.

'There is one indiscretion at least, Mr. Ham, for which my father will never have to pardon me.'

'And what is that, pray, Aster?'

'For counting you upon my list of friends, sir.'

'Leave the room instantly, Aster,' her father almost shouted, while his face was purple with rage.

When the girl withdrew Roland turned, and bowing to the host, said:

'Your conduct and your tone, sir, towards myself are so extraordinary, so inexplicable, and so unmerited, that there is nothing for me but to withdraw. As for this person, Mr. Ham, whom you admit to terms of such intimacy, nothing, I assure you, but the sacred shield of your household could have saved him from the punishment which his insolence deserves. However, he will not always be able to shelter himself by these walls, and by the presence of the inmates. I bid you good morning.' So saying he walked out of the room and into the garden where sat Aster, flushed, nervous and miserable.

'I came to say good-bye, Aster; after all that has happened it is impossible for me to remain.'

'I am sure,' the girl said, 'that Mr. Ham must have prejudiced my father against you or he never would have adopted such language and such a manner towards his guest. I feel quite certain that it was not the swamp they were discussing while alone together this afternoon, but your character. From what I surmise of Mr. Ham I believe him capable of traducing you; of actually inventing charges against your reputation.'

'Could he be so infamous? This is surely not possible.'

'But it is possible; and this is the man with whom my poor father, who really has my interests at heart, would have me link my life. For the past four years his wishes in this respect have been horribly plain to me. Oh, it is very dreadful, Mr. Gray; and it will be still worse for me now that you, my friend, must henceforth be estranged from our house.'

'But you will not marry that man, Aster, dear?' He was looking wistfully into her beautiful eyes.

'Oh, no; I shall never do it of my own free will.'

'Farewell, Aster. Though estranged from your father and your house, fate may some time be kind enough to let me see you. Farewell.' And taking her hand into his he raised it reverently, tenderly, to his lips, and imprinted upon it a warm kiss. Then he arose, bowed and went away. For many a bitter day afterwards he remembered the mute misery in her look as he left the garden.

That evening Roland sought out an old Eton schoolfellow, whom he found smoking on the lawn of his uncle's house.'

'Why, you seem rather excited, old fellow; what is wrong? I thought that the fair Aster had a monopoly of your company for this evening.'

'Yes; it had been so arranged. But I found that cad, Ham, there, and he saw fit to insult me. You can now guess, I suppose, the nature of my mission.'

'Hem; things are really serious then. Do you want me to help you through with the affair?'

'If you will, old fellow. My wish is that you wait upon this person in the morning, that he may name a friend with whom you can arrange the meeting. Let it not be later than the following morning. He has, of course, his choice of sword or pistol.'

'I doubt if the man will fight.'

'Then nothing will remain for me but the loathsome job of giving him a horse-whipping. And I presume that you will not be silent as to his cowardice.'

Early on the following morning Frank Harland, for such was the name of Roland's friend, rode away towards Oatland's, the residence of the coarse-haired Mr. Ham. He alighted at the gate, and throwing his bridle rein over a post entered the grounds. Mr. Ham was at the moment crossing the field towards his residence; but when he perceived the early visitor he changed his course and proceeded to meet the comer.

'Oh, how do you do, Mr. Harland? Did not know it was you. It is a long time since we have seen each other. Was over looking at some of my fellows who are clearing the bush of a piece of intervale. Rascals will not work if one's eye is not constantly upon them.'

In a similar strain did he chatter on; but his ease of manner Harland could see was only counterfeited. The early visit and the grave face of the visitor had alarmed him; but he had not the courage to put any of the questions that had turned his face into a note of interrogation. At last they were at the door of the dwelling; and Harland paused upon the steps.

'I come to you this morning, Mr. Ham, upon an important and delicate mission; and should be glad if you would accompany me to your office or library.'

A flush of scarlet came into Ham's face, and it was vivid through the roots of his coarse black beard.

'Certainly; I shall attend to you with pleasure. I hope, at least, that the matter is capable of an amicable and satisfactory settlement. I have always sought to do what is right, and—

'I have no doubt Mr. Ham, that it can be arranged with entire satisfaction.' With these words the visitor seated himself in the chair to which Mr. Ham, with a hand that trembled, pointed.

'I am, sir, the bearer of a message from my old school friend, Roland Gray. What the purport of such a message is you will no doubt very readily guess, when you come to remember the language which you recently employed respecting him, and the threat which your words evoked. I am therefore ready to arrange the terms for a meeting with any friend you may be good enough to designate.'

'I really fail to comprehend what you mean, Mr. Harland.'

'Oh that is impossible, Mr. Ham. There is a code of honour among gentlemen under such circumstances, of which you must certainly be aware.'

The fellow's courage had quite failed him, if the pallor in his swarthy cheek did not utter a huge lie.

'You surely do not mean that you come to propose terms for a duel?'

'I have come just for that purpose; and shall immediately wait upon any friend you will name to me.'

'But there must really be some mistake. I am not aware of having used any language that could evoke the resentment of your friend.' Harland simply shrugged his shoulders.

'I am not here to discuss that point.' And he rose with scorn upon his face. 'I take the word of my friend upon the matter; and he is a gentleman and a man of honour.' At this reply Mr. Ham adopted a new line of policy, and with it a completely altered manner and tone.

'Well, Mr. Harland, suppose that it be as you say with respect to the provocation; there is another feature of the matter which I bring forward with reluctance, considering your relations of friendship with Mr. Gray.' Here he paused.

'Pray, proceed sir.'

'I may say, Mr. Harland, that the repute of Mr. Gray is not the highest; and considering my own character and standing I do not see how it is possible for me to engage in a combat of honour with him. My position as I have said is unquestioned; but I know nothing of your friend save that report speaks of him as an adventurer without character. He has had a good education, and all that, and associates with people of my own standing; but these facts count for little.'

'Pardon me, sir,' Harland replied with a haughty smile. 'I intend that your position in this matter shall be made very plain. I intend to show that one matter alone stands in the way of your acceptance of this challenge.'

'And what, pray, may that matter be?' The fellow was once more ashy pale, and he trembled.

'Your cowardice, sir.'

'What! Do you dare in my own house to use such words?'

'I use them, of course, most deliberately. And now, sir, that you have raised the question of the worthiness of my friend to meet you in a combat of honour, you must first permit me to state that in denying that fitness, every statement that you have made is a falsehood. First, as to his blood: he is a gentleman. And I know that in proving he is your equal in this respect, you will pardon me for asking certain questions of you, as you will my making certain statements of fact respecting him. Pray, sir, who was your father?'

'A gentleman. He was the owner of this property; and held the position of magistrate in this county, as I do.' Mr. Harland bowed.

'And who, then, sir, was his father?'

Mr. Ham winced; turned red; and then stood up, glaring at his interrogator the picture of wild but impotent rage.

'I will not press the question, Mr. Ham; I will answer it. He was what we describe as a "common person." That is, he was not a gentleman.' Mr. Ham's face was dark with rage; but it soon began to assume its ashen colour.

'Now, sir, Mr. Gray's father is a younger son of a fifth earl in the British peerage. He is therefore by blood fit to meet in the field of honour the grandson of a—Nobody. Then, sir, as to the undefined charges against his character, they are gratuitous falsehoods. If, with these facts before you, a refusal of satisfaction is still made, I have only this to say: the unpleasant task of horsewhipping you remains to my friend; while the duty of proclaiming your cowardice remains to me. What is your answer?'

'Though your language has been such as I never believed that anybody would dare use in my house, I am constrained to accept your statements respecting your friend's fitness to meet me in the field of honour.' Then, as a spasm of terror almost convulsed him, he suddenly asked:

'What weapons does he propose? I cannot fence.'

'This is a matter that your friend and I shall arrange. The choice of weapons, however, I may add, rests with your side.'

'Then please wait till I write a note to—Jabez Drummond,' and the fellow, taking a pen, seated himself at his desk. But his fears had so unnerved him that he made several attempts before he could get the pen into the ink bottle; and wasted several sheets of paper before his hand was steady enough to produce legible writing. When he had ended he turned to the visitor:

'Will you not take a glass of spirits before you go? Will you not come and breakfast with me?' His cringing manner was most despicable; and Harland answered in a tone of quiet scorn:

'No, thank you.'

Then placing the letter into Harland's hands, he said:

'Can this not be made a formal encounter? I have read that this thing is often done.'

'What do you mean, Mr. Ham?'

'That we do not, for example, use bullets. Let it be blank charges.'

'Of course you are at liberty to do what you please in this respect,'
Harland answered, with irony. 'But we shall use bullets.'

'My God, Mr. Harland, you seem to delight in taking the part of a monster.'

'Good morning, Mr. Ham.'

'But when, where-about what time, I mean, is this to take place?'

'That I shall arrange with your friend. But I may say that there can be no valid reason to prevent it taking place to-morrow at the rise of sun. Good morning, Mr. Ham,' and without further words he left the house, mounted his horse, and rode away.