A Castle in Spain: A Novel

by James De Mille

CHAPTER XXXIII. — IN WHICH THERE IS A VERY PRETTY QUARREL.

In order to account for the strange and shockingly rude language of Ashby, which must be as astonishing to the reader as it was to Harry, it will be necessary to go back a little.

You see, then, my dears, immediately after Harry's flight, Ashby also had hurried away, and had reached his own room without further adventure. He now began to think that he had acted with mad folly and recklessness; yet at the same time he could not bring himself to regret it at all. He had seen Dolores, and that was enough, and the hunger of his heart was satisfied, for the present at least.

Like Harry, he had a sense of being pursued, which kept him for a long time on the watch, until at length he began to feel safe. All the circumstances of his recent adventure now came to his memory. One thing amidst it all gave him great perplexity. Who were in that room? There had been others, and he had heard the motion of one in particular behind him—some one who seemed to be moving under the chimney. Then came the arrival of "His Majesty." But who was that other one? Ashby did not like the appearance of things at all.

After a time, as his confidence became restored, he began to think of going back again, just, as he said to himself, for the sake of listening at the chimney, and seeing that all was right. Putting it in this plausible way, the thought became too tempting a one to be resisted, and at length he started on his way back.

The passage-way, with its secrets, had already been shown him by Dolores. It started from the chimney, and after a few feet came to some steps which ascended to the second floor, upon which were situated the rooms of Harry on the one side and the ladies on the other. The steps thus led upward toward the very passage-way which Harry had been traversing. How they opened into that passage-way, however, has yet to be explained.

As Ashby reached the foot of the flight of steps he became aware of sounds, which brought him to a full stop. Instead of going back, however, he waited. Hidden in impenetrable gloom at the foot of the steps, he could listen, and there was no fear of his being seen. His only idea was that the Carlists were closing up the way.

At length he noticed a faint gleam of light, and after a short interval he noticed that it grew brighter. He then saw the stone door open inward. As he watched he did not move, being too eager to know what was coming, and feeling confident in his own obscurity.

And now, as he watched, he saw Harry's face suddenly reveal itself, as it was lit up by the flaring torch. Yes, it was Harry, and there he stood, examining everything in the manner already described; and Ashby was a witness of all his proceedings.

As Ashby looked, there came to him a multitude of dark and gloomy suspicions. So then, he thought, Harry knows all about this passage, and if so, he must know where it leads to. And where was that? It was to only one place—that one room alone. And what would Harry want there, and what would he find? He would find her—Katie!

Now, although Ashby was full of bitter resentment against Katie, and was, perhaps, quite in earnest in all that he had said about her to Dolores, yet when he had this fresh confirmation of something like an understanding between these two, he became filled with the bitterest jealousy and indignation.

He had already felt something of these same feelings. He had seen Harry with his own eyes paying devoted attentions to Katie, though he knew that Katie was engaged to him. It was this which had made him turn away from her, for he had seen that she was false to him. Yet his resentment against her did not lessen his jealousy, nay, it intensified it. He regarded Harry as guilty of an offence which was at once the worst and the most unpardonable. He had been false to his friend, and that, too, immediately after he had received that friend's fullest confidence, and had promised that friend his most energetic assistance. Could anything be worse than this?

And now Ashby saw through it all. Harry had traversed that passage-way. He had been in that room. He had seen Katie. Of this he had not a doubt. And what now? No doubt he was prowling about to try to find some way out, so that he might escape with Katie.

Ashby watched with all these bitter thoughts in his mind, until at length he could endure them no longer. He determined to confront his former friend, his present enemy, and meet him face to face; to charge him with his perfidy, and seek for vengeance. With a leap, he bounded up the steps. Harry retreated, yet not so fast but that Ashby caught up with him, and grasped him as he was flying. Then Harry turned, pistol in hand, and the two stood face to face.

"Ashby!" cried Harry.

And Ashby cried out:

"Scoundrel! villain! traitor!"

His face was white, and his voice hoarse with passion.

Harry was confounded.

"Hang it, Ashby; don't you know me? Are you mad?"

"Know you!" cried Ashby, bitterly. "Thank Heaven, I do know you! I've found you out, you infernal sneak, you! Know you? Good heavens! yes, I know you for a scoundrel, and a contemptible, double-dealing interloper and villain!"

Harry stood aghast.

"What in the name of Heaven is the meaning of all this?"

"You've been in that room!" cried Ashby, pointing up the passage-way.

"Well, what if I have?"

"What if you have? You know what you went there for."

Thus far Harry had been too much amazed to understand anything. But now he began to see what it all meant.

"Oh, ho!" said he; "so that's it?"

"That's it! of course that's it!" cried Ashby. "Isn't that enough? sneaking after that girl, when you know that she is mine. What the devil have you got to say for yourself?"

At this Harry began to rouse himself. He didn't feel like defending his conduct; and now, as was natural, took refuge in a fight.

"Confound you!" he cried; "what do you mean by such insults as these? Who are you? What business is it of yours?"

"She's engaged to me. I took you into my confidence, and you've turned out a traitor and a sneak."

Harry drew a long breath, and instantly recovered his usual coolness.

"My dear sir," said he, "you have a pretty talent for scolding. Nature evidently intended you to be an old woman; but doesn't it strike you that this sort of thing isn't customary among gentlemen, and that you are making an infernal fool of yourself? Do you suppose I'm to ask your permission where to go in this castle? I found this passage-way myself, and hope to find others also. And, by Jove!" he continued, as at this moment the thought of the lost parcel came to him, "there's one matter I should like to settle with you before we go any farther."

"We shall have to settle several matters."

"I left a parcel in this place a short time ago. It was a very valuable one. I should like to ask you if you have it?"

"I? I, sir? I have your parcel?"

"I don't mean to say that you took it knowing it to be mine."

"Oh! you don't, don't you?"

"Mr. Ashby, will you give me a frank answer to a fair question? Do you know anything about that parcel?"

"Parcel? Pooh!" said Ashby, who thought that this was some transparent trick of Harry's to account for his presence here. "Confound you and your parcels! I know nothing about them. I—"

"I ask you, did you pick up that parcel?"

"And I say, confound your parcels!"

Harry was growing quite as furious as Ashby. He now felt certain that Ashby had found it and had it in his possession. He considered Ashby's answers as palpable evasions of a direct question.

"Well, then," he said, "I say that if you still keep that parcel after I claim it, that you are keeping property that is not yours, and you know what that means!"

Ashby gave a bitter laugh.

"This as a hint that I am a thief," said he.

"And a pretty strong one, too, I rather think," said Harry. "Do not imagine that you have any claims to that package arising out of any previous relations to a certain young lady."

"A certain young lady!—a package! What do you mean? I neither know nor care. I only know that you and I must settle accounts with one another."

"By Jove, that's one sentiment in which I agree!"

"If I hadn't found you here, I might have only suspected; but now that I've found you, I do not merely believe, but know that you are a—"

"Confound you! if you begin your infernal abuse again, I'll blow your brains out! I haven't got your talent for scolding. If you want to settle accounts with me, come along like a man, and don't stand here jawing like a fishwife."

"By heavens! that will I—and here—"

"Here! pooh! Come along to my room."

"Lead on—I'll follow."

At this Harry led the way, and in a short time, followed by Ashby, he once more reached his own room.

And so it had come to this! The friends who a few days before had been so intimate, so confiding, and so affectionate, now stood face to face as foes, glaring at one another with defiance in their eyes and bitter hate in their hearts. Each thought he had received sufficient provocation to seek the life of the other, and each thought that he had received from the other insults which could only be wiped out in blood.

Harry felt sure that Ashby had found the package which he had concealed so carefully, and was holding it on the ground of his engagement to Katie. Such a right Harry might possibly have conceded to Russell, as Katie's guardian, especially as he had been the one who last had held it; but to Ashby he never would surrender it. As for Ashby, his bitterness and jealousy have already been fully set forth, and they were now more intense than ever.

Harry stuck the torch in a hollow stone in the floor which appeared to have been made for that purpose. Then he turned to Ashby.

"Now, sir," said Ashby, "you have already heard."

"No more, I beg," said Harry; "not a word. Let's fight like gentlemen, not jaw like bullies. Have you a pistol?"

"No."

"That's unfortunate. There's no knowing at what time a pistol may be needed."

"No," said Ashby, bitterly. "If I had known that you would prove a scoun—"

"By heavens!" roared Harry, "if yon don't shut up I'll put a bullet through you! Do you hear? Come now," he continued, growing cooler; "we've both said enough, more than enough. Remember that when two gentlemen meet in mortal combat the time for insult is over. We have no seconds. Let us try to imitate the punctiliousness of seconds in our treatment of each other. Do you consent?"

Ashby bowed.

"And now, Mr. Ashby," continued Harry, "as you say you have no pistol, is there anything else that you can suggest? Have you a knife?"

"Nothing but a penknife."

"Ah, that's very unfortunate. If we could only get hold of a couple of rifles from our friends here outside, we should be all right, but there's no use in hoping for that. Our ransom is too high for them to risk losing it. And so, as far as I can see, the only thing left is for us to use this one pistol of mine."

"One pistol? How can both of us use one pistol?"

"We must. There's nothing else to be done."

Ashby shook his head.

"I don't see how," said he.

"It's plain enough," said Harry. "We can take it turn about."

"But the man who fires the first shot has an immense advantage," said Ashby.

"Pardon me," said Harry; "that does not necessarily follow. He may hit his foe, of course, but the wound may only be a trifling one after all; or he may miss his shot altogether. It often happens so in duels. Moreover, as you very well know, in a duel it never happens that both fire at the same instant. One always fires a little before the other. So in our case it will simply amount to this, that one of us will fire a little before the other. In that case the first man may miss, and the second man will then come in for his turn."

"But how shall we decide who is to fire first?" said Ashby.

"Oh, that's easy enough," said Harry; "we can toss up."

"Oh, very well."

"Have you a coin?"

"Not one."

"Nor I—not a copper, even. The beggarly Carlists have drained me dry."

"We must find something else," said Ashby.

"Oh, there needn't be any difficulty about that. A button will do quite as well."

And with this Harry cut one of the buttons from his trousers.

"This will do," said he. "The face of the button will be 'head,' and the back of it 'tail.' And now, will you try it?"

He handed it to Ashby, who took it without a word.

"If it falls 'heads,' the first fire will be yours; if 'tails,' the first fire will be mine."

"Very well," said Ashby; and then, poising the button for a moment, he tossed it.

It fell, head uppermost.

"Heads!" said Harry. "Mr. Ashby, the first fire belongs to you. Here's the pistol. It's loaded. I'll take my position here. Shall I measure the distance?"

"Pardon me, Mr. Rivers," said Ashby; "but I cannot accept this from one throw. It must be the best out of three times."

"I don't see why."

"I should not accept it under any other conditions."

"Oh, very well. Let us both act so as to satisfy one another," said Harry. "In that case you had better toss again."

Ashby now picked up the button, and tossed a second time. This time it fell face downward.

"Tails!" said Harry. "Once more, and that decides it."

Ashby picked up the button and gave a final toss. The button fell. This time it was in Ashby's favor. It fell face upward.

"Heads!" said Harry. "It's yours, Mr. Ashby. Will you take the pistol?"

Ashby hesitated.

"I think," said he, "we had better arrange our places."

"Very well. At what distance?" said Harry. "Shall we say twelve paces?"

"I should think so."

Upon this Harry began by the fireplace, and walked for twelve paces along the floor. Reaching this place, he stopped.

"Will this do?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Very well; and now which place will you take?"

"Either."

"In that case we must toss up again for choice of positions. But, first of all, it will be necessary to move this torch, so that it shall be equally favorable."

Saying this, Harry walked over to the torch, and carried it, together with the stone, to a place which seemed about midway between the two positions. Here he set it on the ground.

"And now, Mr. Ashby," said Harry, "we must toss up for places."

"Very well," said Ashby; "but you had better toss this time, as I did it last time."

To this Harry made no objection. He took the button, and tossed it. This time luck was favorable, and he won the choice of positions.

"Well," said he, "I'm quite indifferent; but, as I have the choice, I suppose I may as well choose the place out there in the room. In that case you will stand here in front of the fireplace."

"Very well," said Ashby, who thereupon took up his place there.

"Have you any plan to propose as to firing?"

"None whatever."

"I've been thinking of one which I will mention. You may have a better one. The unarmed one shall give the word, or drop a handkerchief. Will that do? If you prefer for the one who fires to give the word—very well. Only I think that the word had better be given."

"Certainly," said Ashby, "and I quite agree to your proposal."

"Very well," said Harry; "and now, Mr. Ashby, here is the pistol."

Saying this, he handed the weapon to Ashby, who took it with a slight bow, but in silence.

Harry now measured off twelve paces once more, and reached the spot which he had before marked out, upon which he turned and, standing erect, faced Ashby.

"Mr. Ashby," said he, "are you ready? If so, take aim, and I will give the word."

Ashby raised the pistol and took aim. The weapon covered Harry, and he knew it. He knew also that Ashby was a "dead shot." But not a nerve quivered. He stood up there as straight as a ramrod, and then, in a calm, clear voice, with his usual self-possession, said:

"One; two; three. Fire!"

For a moment Ashby stood with his pistol thus covering Harry.

Then his arm fell.

"I cannot," said he—"I cannot fire, in cold blood, on an unarmed man."

Now, had Ashby stood thus, with a pistol, in the full heat of his first fury, he would have tired, without stopping to think; but the effect of their enforced courtesy to one another, and more particularly of the somewhat tedious preliminaries, had been to calm and even chill his hot anger, and to subdue all his fierce excitement. As he stood there, with his pistol levelled, and saw Harry's cool, calm face, it seemed like butchery. He could not fire. And so his hand dropped down with this exclamation.

"But my turn is to come."

"Oh, that's nothing," said Ashby. "You may have your turn now, if you choose."

"Oh no," said Harry, "I can't take my turn until after you have fired; and the worst of it is, I don't see how we can settle this difficulty, if we don't do it now."

"Other chances will, no doubt, occur," said Ashby.

"Pardon me," said Harry, "that is hardly probable, and, besides, that will not help the matter. In fact, it will only make it worse. For you see, if some time should elapse before such a meeting, the recollection of this affair would be so faint that I could not go into it with any spirit; whereas now I am all cocked and primed. So fire away, my dear fellow, for I really don't want to have an affair of this sort hanging over me the rest of my life. We must have it out, and now's the time."

"Will you not fire first, Mr. Rivers?" said Ashby, earnestly.

"Oh no, that would make all our preparations childish," was the reply. "We have appealed to Fortune, and her decision has been given."

Ashby drew a long breath.

"Mr. Rivers," said he, "I cannot shoot an unarmed man in cold blood."

"But what can we do?" said Harry.

"Why, we may be able to borrow a couple of rifles, or even one rifle, from our friends here."

Upon this a voice rang out, full and clear, in the room:

"Begorra, an' that same they'll do. Whoroo, lads! this bates the worruld, so it does. It's mesilf that's stud by the dure for the last tin minutes, an' I've seen a soight that I won't forget till me dyin' day. It's loike the toime whin the Irish exiles at Fontenoy marched up to the English gyards an' said, 'Gintlemen av the English Gyards, fire first!' Begorra, it's mesilf that 'ud be the proud man to lend yez the loan av a couple av guns; but don't be alarrumed, darlints—afther yez pay yer ranshom, ye'll have a chance."

At the first sound of that voice Harry and Ashby started in amazement. So intent had they been on their own business that they had heard nothing; and Ashby, though facing the door, had been so intent on Harry that he had not noticed that it had been half opened. Now they saw the Carlist chief come in, followed by half a dozen of his men. Most amazing of all was the discovery that he spoke English with an Irish brogue. Katie had already mentioned this to Harry, but he had not thought much about it. Now, face to face with "His Majesty," they were able to look at him with other feelings. Had he entered under other circumstances, he would have talked Spanish; but so excited was he that he burst forth in the manner above detailed.

"For ye see," said "His Majesty"—

"'Mesilf does admire the best,
Av alll that's undher the sun,
To stand faciu' the friend av me sowl,
Wid blunderbus, pistol, or gun.
The word av command it is given,
The wenpon we both av us raises,
Afther which—sure the one laves for home,
Aa' off goes the other to blazes!'"

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