"What is it, Henry?" I inquired. "Is your master not well?"
"I don't know what's wrong with his Grace, sir," the man replied. "I'm very much frightened about him, and I thought I would come to you at once."
"Why, what is the matter? He seemed well enough when I bade him good-night, half-an-hour or so ago."
"It isn't that, sir. He's well enough in his body," said the man. "There's something else behind it all. I know, sir, you won't mind my coming to you. I didn't know what else to do."
"You had better tell me everything, then I shall know how to act. What do you think is the reason of it?"
"Well, sir, it's like this," Henry went on. "His Grace has been very quiet all day. He wrote a lot of letters this morning and put them in his dispatch-box. 'I'll tell you what to do with them later, Henry,' he said when he had finished. Well, I didn't think very much of that, but when to-night he asked me what I had made up my mind to do with myself if ever I should leave his service, and told me that he had put it down in his will that I was to have five hundred pounds if he should die before I left him, I began to think there was something the matter. Well, sir, I took his things to-night, and was in the act of leaving the room, when he called me back. 'I'm going out early for a swim in the sea to-morrow morning,' he said, 'but I shan't say anything to Sir Richard Hatteras about it, because I happen to know that he thinks the currents about here are dangerous. Well, one never knows what may turn up,' he goes on to say, 'and if, by any chance, Henry—though I hope such a thing will not happen—I should be caught, and should not return, I want you to give this letter to Sir Richard. But remember this, you are on no account to touch it until mid-day. Do you understand?' I told him that I did, but I was so frightened, sir, by what he said, that I made up my mind to come and see you at once."
This was disturbing intelligence indeed. From what he said there could be no doubt that the Don and Glenbarth contemplated fighting a duel. In that case what was to be done? To attempt to reason with the Duke in his present humour would be absurd, besides his honour was at stake, and, though I am totally against duels, that counts for something.
"I am glad you told me this, Henry," I said, "for now I shall know how to act. Don't worry about your master's safety. Leave him to me. He is safe in my hands. He shall have his swim to-morrow morning, but I shall take very good care that he is watched. You may go to bed with an easy heart, and don't think about that letter. It will not be needed, for he will come to no harm."
The man thanked me civilly and withdrew, considerably relieved in his mind by his interview with me. Then I sat myself down to think the matter out. What was I to do? Doubtless the Don was an experienced duellist, while Glenbarth, though a very fair shot with a rifle or fowling-piece, would have no chance against him with the pistol or the sword. It was by no means an enviable position for a man to be placed in, and I fully realized my responsibility in the matter. I felt that I needed help, but to whom should I apply for it? The Dean would be worse than useless; while to go to the Don and to ask him to sacrifice his honour to our friendship for Glenbarth would be to run the risk of being shown the door. Then I thought of Nikola, and made up my mind to go to him at once. Since the Duke had spoken of leaving the hotel early in the morning, there could be no doubt as to the hour of the meeting. In that case there was no time to be lost. I thereupon went to explain matters to my wife.
"I had a suspicion that this would happen," she said, when she had heard me out. "Oh, Dick! you must stop it without fail. I should never forgive myself if anything were to happen to him while he is our guest. Go to Doctor Nikola at once and tell him everything, and implore him to help us as he has helped us before."