“Do you mean to say, signor,” said Don Philip, “that you have accepted their hospitality, laughed, talked, walked arm in arm with them, pledged them in wine, as we have seen you this evening, and after they have confided in you that you have put them in irons?”
“Yes, sir, I do,” replied Captain Tartar.
“Then, by Heaven, you have my defiance, and you are no gentleman!” replied Don Philip, the elder.
“And I repeat my brother’s words, sir,” cried Don Martin.
The two brothers felt so much attachment for our hero, who had twice rendered such signal service to their family, that their anger was without bounds.
In every other service but the English navy there is not that power of grossly insulting and then sheltering yourself under your rank; nor is it necessary for the discipline of any service. To these young officers, if the power did exist, the use of such power under such circumstances appeared monstrous, and they were determined, at all events, to show to Captain Tartar, that in society, at least, it could be resented. They collected their friends, told them what had passed, and begged them to circulate it through the room. This was soon done, and Captain Tartar found himself avoided. He went up to the Marquesa and spoke to her—she turned her head the other way. He addressed a count he had been conversing with the night before—he turned short round upon his heel, while Don Philip and Don Martin walked up and down talking, so that he might hear what they said, and looking at him with eyes flashing with indignation. Captain Tartar left the ball-room and returned to the inn, more indignant than ever. When he rose the next morning he was informed that a gentleman wished to speak with him; he sent up his card as Don Ignatio Verez, colonel commanding the fourth regiment of infantry. On being admitted, he informed Captain Tartar that Don Philip de Rebiera wished to have the pleasure of crossing swords with him, and requested to know when it would be convenient for Captain Tartar to meet him.
It was not in Captain Tartar’s nature to refuse a challenge; his courage was unquestionable, but he felt indignant that a midshipman should be the cause of his getting into such a scrape. He accepted the challenge, but having no knowledge of the small-sword, refused to fight unless with pistols. To this the colonel raised no objections, and Captain Tartar despatched his coxswain with a note to his second lieutenant, for he was not on good terms with his first. The meeting took place—at the first fire the ball of Don Philip passed through Captain Tartar’s brain, and he instantly fell dead. The second lieutenant hastened on board to report the fatal result of the meeting, and shortly after, Don Philip and his brother, with many of their friends, went off in the Governor’s barge to condole with our hero.
The first lieutenant, now captain pro tempore, received them graciously, and listened to their remonstrances relative to our hero and Gascoigne.
“I have never been informed by the captain of the grounds of complaint against the young gentlemen,” replied he, “and have therefore no change to prefer against them. I shall therefore order them to be liberated. But, as I learn that they are officers belonging to one of his Majesty’s ships lying at Malta, I feel it my duty, as I sail immediately, to take them there and send them on board of their own ship.”
Jack and Gascoigne were then taken out of irons and permitted to see Don Philip, who informed him that he had revenged the insult, but Jack and Gascoigne did not wish to go on shore again after what had passed. After an hour’s conversation, and assurances of continued friendship, Don Philip, his brother, and their friends, took leave of our two midshipmen, and rowed on shore.