The Wages of Virtue

by Percival Christopher Wren

As he stood leaning against the bar, his elbows on it and his face toward the big room, it would have required a very close observer to note any signs of the fact that he was about to fight for his life, and, far more important, for Carmelita, against an opponent in whose favour the odds were heavy. His hard strong face was calm, the eyes level and steady, and, more significant, the hands and fingers quiet and reposeful. Studying his friend, John Bull noticed the absence of any symptoms of excitement, nervousness, or anxiety. There was no moistening of lips, no working of jaw muscles, no change of posture, no quickening of speech. It was the same old Buck, large, lazy, and lethargic, with the same humorous eye, the same measured drawl, the same quaint turn of speech. In striking contrast with the immobility of the American, was the obvious excitement of the Cockney.

"It'll be an 'Ellova fight," he kept on saying. "Gawdstreuth, it'll be an 'Ellova fight," and bitterly regretted the self-denying ordinance which he had passed upon himself to the effect that no liquor should wet his lips till all was o'er....

Luigi Rivoli, followed as usual by Malvin, Tou-tou Boil-the-Cat, Borges, Hirsch and Bauer, strode into the Café. He was accustomed to attracting attention and to the proud consciousness of nudges, glances and whisperings wherever he went. Not for nothing is one the strongest and most dangerous man in the Foreign Legion. But to-night he was aware of more than usual interest as silence fell upon the abnormally large gathering in Carmelita's Café. He at once ascribed it to the widespread interest in the public challenge he had received from John Bull to a duel à l'outrance and the rumour that the Englishman had as publicly withdrawn it. He felt that fresh lustre had been added to his brilliant name.... Carmelita had been useful there, and had delivered him from a very real danger, positively from the fangs of a mad dog. Very useful. What a pity it was that he could not marry Madame, and run Carmelita. Might she not be brought to consent to some such arrangement? Not even when she found she could have him in no other way? ... Never!

Absolutamente ... Curse her.... Well, anyhow, there were a few more francs, dinners, and bottles of Chianti. One must take what one can, while one can--and after all the Canteen was worth ten Cafés. Madame had been very kind to-night and would give her final answer to-morrow. That had been a subtle idea of his, telling her that, unless she married him, she should marry no one, and remain a widow all the days of her life, for he'd break the back of any man who so much as looked at her. That had given the old sow something to think about. Ha! Ha! ...

As he entered, John Bull was just saying to the Bucking Bronco, "Don't do it, Buck. I know all about that

'Thrice-armed is he who hath his quarrel just,

But four times is he who gets his blow in fust.'

But thrice is quite enough, believe me, old chap. You've no need to descend to such a trick as hitting him unawares, by way of starting the fight."

"Is this my night ter howl, John, or yourn? Whose funeral is it?"

... "Fight him by his own methods if you like, Buck--but don't put yourself in the wrong for a start.... You'll win all right, or I shall cease to believe in Eternal Justice of Things."

It had been the purpose of the Bucking Bronco to lessen the odds against himself, to some extent, by intimating his desire to fight, with a shattering blow which should begin, and, at the same time, half win the battle.