My Lady of the North Part 44

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

THE LAST RESORT OF GENTLEMEN

I found the library deserted, and paced the floor for fully half an hour before Caton appeared. Stung as I had been by Brennan's harsh, uncalled-for words, I yet shrank from the thought that I must now meet him in deadly combat. It was no fear of personal injury that troubled me; indeed I do not recall giving this the slightest consideration, for my mind was altogether concentrated upon what such a meeting must necessarily mean to Edith Brennan, and how it would affect all our future relationship. This was the thought that swayed and mastered me.

I had pledged myself to avoid him, and indeed had used every means possible to that end. I was even willing to go forth stamped by his denunciation rather than involve her in such controversy. But the effort was fruitless, and I must now stand before him, or else forever forfeit my manhood. Thus the die was already cast, yet in one point I might still prove true to the spirit of my pledge, and retain her approbation--I could permit my antagonist to leave the field unscathed.

One who does not realize my feelings toward this man, my fierce resentment of every indignity he had heaped upon me, my intense rivalry, and my burning desire to punish him for a hundred mental wounds, cannot comprehend how difficult a battle I fought in those few moments in order that I might conquer myself. The time was none too long, yet my mind once thoroughly settled as to my duty to her, I became calm again, and confident as to the outcome. When Caton entered, flushed and visibly excited from what had evidently proven an acrimonious controversy, I greeted him with a smile.

"You appear to have experienced difficulties in regard to details," I said curiously.

"There was much unnecessary talk," he admitted, "but matters have been at last arranged to the satisfaction of all concerned. You are to meet at once, in the rear of the big tobacco shed, a spot entirely removed from observation. I have been compelled to accept pistols as the weapons, as we have nothing else here at all suitable for the purpose-- cavalry sabres being far too c.u.mbersome. Lieutenant Starr chances to possess two derringers exactly alike which we have mutually agreed upon. I hope this is satisfactory to you, Wayne?"

"I am not precisely an expert, but that does not greatly matter. Who acts for Brennan?"

"Captain Moorehouse, rather against his will, I think."

"Very well, Caton; I am perfectly satisfied, and am, indeed, greatly obliged to you; yet before we go out I desire to speak a word or two with the utmost frankness." I stood facing him, my hand resting lightly upon the writing-table, my eyes reading his expressive face. "As my second I wish you to comprehend fully my actions, and the motives that inspire them. If they are in any way unsatisfactory to your mind, you may feel at perfect liberty to withhold your services. I am now, and always have been, opposed to duelling; I believe it wrong in principle, and a travesty upon justice; but it is a custom of the South, a requirement among officers of our army, and after what has just occurred between Major Brennan and myself I cannot honorably refuse any longer to go out. Major Brennan has deliberately placed me in a position where I cannot avoid meeting him without losing all standing in my corps. I sought to escape, but was prevented by accident; now I simply yield to the inevitable. I feel confident you will not misconstrue these words; you surely know me sufficiently well so as not to attribute them to cowardice. I shall face him exactly in accordance with your arrangements, asking nothing upon my part, yielding him every satisfaction he can possibly desire--but I shall fire in the air."

He stared at me incredulously, his face a perfect picture of amazement.

"But, Wayne," he stammered, "are you aware that Major Brennan is an expert with the pistol? that he holds the Sixth Corps trophy? Do you realize that he goes out deliberately intending to kill you?"

"I was not posted as to the first fact you mention, but have never entertained the slightest doubt as to the other. However, they do not in the least affect my decision."

"But, man, it will be murder! I should never forgive myself if I sanctioned it."

"That is exactly why I told you," I said calmly; "and I am perfectly willing to stand alone and absolve you from all responsibility. Yet I do not desire you to suppose that I am at all quixotic in this--there is a personal reason why I am perfectly willing to risk my life rather than injure Major Brennan."

His troubled eyes studied me intently, and then his face suddenly brightened with a new thought. "Wayne," he asked, placing his hand upon my arm familiarly, "is it Mrs. Brennan?"

For an instant I hesitated, but his manly, honest countenance rea.s.sured me. "Between us only, it is," I answered gravely; "but not the slightest blame attaches to her."

"I do not wholly understand," he said at last, "yet I do not doubt you may be perfectly right in your decision." He extended his hand impulsively. "I know you to be a good soldier and a true gentleman; I will stand with you, Wayne, but I pledge this--if he takes advantage treacherously, and you fall (as G.o.d forbid!), I will face him myself; and when I do, there shall be no firing in the air."

I wrung his hand silently, and my heart went out in unspeakable grat.i.tude to this n.o.ble fellow, who, wearing the uniform of an enemy, had constantly proven himself my sincere friend. "Your words strengthen me greatly," I managed to say at last. "Now let us go, and not keep the others waiting."

I do not remember that we spoke, save once, while we pa.s.sed out through the orchard into the field where the big tobacco shed stood. A group of soldiers were digging a grave behind one of the negro cabins, but other than these we saw no one. It was as we paused a moment to refasten the gate that I finally broke the silence between us.

"In the inner pocket of my shirt," I said, "you will find directions which will enable you to communicate with my people."

His eyes instantly filled with tears.

"Don't say that, Wayne," he protested. "I will not believe it is destined to end so."

"I certainly trust it is not," I answered, smiling at him, and deeply touched by his show of genuine feeling, "but I have only you to rely upon in this matter if by any chance it does."

The deserted field we were compelled to cross had long been neglected, and was now thickly overgrown with weeds. Not until we turned the corner of the great ramshackle building, which in other and more prosperous days had been dedicated to the curing of the leaf, did we perceive any signs of the presence of our antagonists. They were standing upon the farther side, directly opposite the door, and both bowed slightly as we approached. The Captain came toward us slowly.

"It is to be greatly regretted, gentlemen," he said, with ceremonious politeness, "that we have no surgeon with us. However, neither contestant has any advantage in this respect. Lieutenant Caton, may I ask if the arrangements as already completed have proven satisfactory to your princ.i.p.al?"

"Entirely so."

"Then if you will kindly step this way a moment we will confer as to certain details."

Brennan was leaning in negligent att.i.tude against the side of the building, his eyes fastened upon the ground, the blue smoke of a cigar curling lazily above his head. I glanced toward him, and then sought to amuse myself watching the queer antics of a gray squirrel on the rail fence beyond. I felt no desire for further thought, only an intense anxiety for them to hurry the preliminaries, and have the affair settled as speedily as possible. I was aroused by Moorehouse's rather nasal voice.

"Gentlemen, will you please take your positions. Major Brennan, you will stand three paces to the right of that sapling, facing directly south. Captain Wayne, kindly walk straight west from the shed door until you come opposite the Major's position."

I noted Brennan throw away the stump of his cigar, and then I walked slowly forward until I reached the point a.s.signed me. My heart was beating fast now, for I fully realized the probabilities of the next few minutes, and felt little doubt that serious injury, if not death, was to be my portion. Yet my trained nerves did not fail me, and outwardly I appeared fully as cool and deliberate as my opponent. Years of constant exposure to peril in every form had yielded me a grim philosophy of fatalism that now stood me in most excellent stead.

Indeed, I doubt not, had I chosen to put it to the test, my hand would have proven the steadier of the two, for Brennan's face was flushed, and he plainly exhibited the intense animosity with which he confronted me.

How peculiarly the mind often operates in such moments of exciting suspense! I recall remarking a very slight stoop in Brennan's shoulders which I had never perceived before, I remember wondering where Moorehouse had ever discovered a tailor to give so shocking a fit to his coat, and finally I grew almost interested in two birds perched upon the limb of a tree opposite where I stood. I even smiled to myself over a jest one of the young officers had made an hour before. Yet with it all I remained keenly observant, and fully aware of each movement made by the others on the field. I saw Caton accept the derringer handed him and test it carefully, the long, slim, blue barrel looking deadly enough as he held it up between me and the sky. Then Moorehouse approached Brennan with its fellow in his grasp, and the Lieutenant crossed over, and stood beside me.

"Here is the gun, Wayne," he said, "and I sincerely hope you have changed your decision. There is no mercy in Brennan's eyes."

"So I notice," I answered, taking the derringer from him, and examining it with some curiosity, "but I shall do as I said, nevertheless. It is not any sentiment of mercy I feel which spares him, but a duty that appeals to me even more strongly than hate."

"By Heaven, I wish it were otherwise."

I remained silent, for I could not say in my heart that I echoed his wish, and I cared not to go down in another minute with a lie upon my lips. The love of Edith Brennan, which I now felt a.s.sured was mine, was sweeter far to me than life.

"Who gives the word?" I questioned.

"I do; are you ready?"

"Perfectly."

I held out my hand, and his fingers closed upon it with warm, friendly grip. The next moment Brennan and I stood, seemingly alone, facing each other, as motionless as two statues. His coat was b.u.t.toned to the throat, his cap-visor pulled low over his eyes, his pistol hand hanging straight down at his side, his gaze never wavering from me. I knew he was coolly, deliberately measuring the distance between us with as deadly a purpose as any murderer. The almost painful stillness was broken by Caton, and I marked the tremor in his voice.

"Are you both ready, gentlemen?"

"I am," said Brennan.

"Ready," I replied.

"The word will be one, two, three--fire; with a slight pause after the three. A report from either pistol before the final word is spoken I shall take personally. Be prepared now."

There was a moment's pause; so still was it I heard the chirping of birds overhead, and the flutter of a leaf as it fell swirling at my feet. I saw Brennan as through a mist, and in its undulations there seemed to be pictures of the face of his wife, as if her spirit hovered there between us. To have shot then would have been like piercing her before reaching him.

"Ready!" said the voice once more; and as I saw Brennan's arm slowly rise, I lifted mine also, and covered him, noting, as I did so, almost in wonder, with what steadiness of nerve and wrist I held the slender gauge just beneath the visor of his cap. Deliberately, as though he dreaded the necessity, Caton counted:

"One; two; three--_fire_!"

My pistol exploded, the charge striking the limb above him, and I staggered backward, my hat torn from my head, a white line cut through my hair, and a thin trickle of blood upon my temple. I saw Caton rushing toward me, his face filled with anxiety, and then Brennan hurled his yet smoking derringer into the dirt at his feet with an oath.

"d.a.m.n it, Moorehouse," he roared, fairly beside himself, "the charge was too heavy; it overshot."

"Are you much hurt?" panted Caton.