Sustained honor Part 14

They went to bed early, and Fernando slept soundly. It was Terrence who awoke them and said it would not do to be late. He had engaged a sailor called Luff Williams to take them in his boat to the spot, a long sandy beach behind a high promontory some five or six miles from the city. The spot was quite secluded, and Terrence declared it a love of a place for such little affairs.

"What are ye thinkin' of, Fernando?" asked Terrence, when the boat with the three young men was under way.

"I'm thinking, sir, if I were to kill him, what I must do after."

"Right, my boy; nothing like it; but 1811 will settle all for ye. I don't believe, now that America is on the verge of war with the British, that my one will make much of a row for killin' the murdherin' baste.

Are ye a good shot?"

"I am with a rifle; but I never could do anything to speak of with a pistol."

"I don't moind that. Ye've a good eye; never take it off him after you're on the ground; follow him everywhere. I knew a fellow in Ireland who always shot his man that way. Look without winkin'; it's fatal at a short distance--a very good thing to learn, when ye've a little spare time."

As they came in sight of the beach where the duel was to be fought, they perceived, a few hundred yards off, a group of persons standing on the sands, whom they recognized as their opponents.

"Fernando," said Terrence, grasping his arm firmly, as if to instill into him some of his own hope and confidence, "Fernando, although you're only a boy, I've no fear of your courage; but this Lieutenant Matson is a famous duelist, and he will try to shake your nerve. Now remember that ye take everything that happens quite with an air of indifference; don't let him think he has iny advantage over ye, and you'll see how the tables will be turned in your favor."

"Trust me, Terrence, I'll not disgrace you," Stevens answered.

"You are twelve minutes late, Mr. Malone," said the ensign, who acted as the lieutenant's second; "but we shall all be able to get back to breakfast--those that will care to eat."

Not to be outdone, Terrence said:

"All will be at supper; but your friend will be where he is eaten, rather than eats."

"Don't be too sure; the lieutenant has killed his sixth man in affairs like this."

The remark was of course intended for Fernando's ears. Sukey heard it and said:

"Fernando, that's a lie; don't you believe it. Aim at his plaguy head, and you can hit it. You used to snuff a candle that distance."

Fernando smiled while he kept his eye on the lieutenant. That smile and that eternal stare disconcerted the English officer, and he turned a little pale. There was something about the imperturbable youth which made him dread the meeting. Fernando was strangely, unnaturally calm.

Ten minutes more, and he might be in eternity.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE BELLE OF THE BEACH.

No experienced duelist ever entered into the business with more earnestness or zeal than Terrence Malone. He and the lieutenant's second were some distance away settling points of position, he saw three or four men in the uniform of British officers coming around the bluff, among them the ship's surgeon with a case of instruments and medicines in his hand. Captain Conkerall, though the real injured party, was not on the scene. His lieutenant readily took up his quarrel, on account of his jealousy of Fernando who had completely usurped his place as the favorite of Miss Morgianna Lane.

Arrangements were made at last, and Terrence came to his friend, took his arm and walked him forward.

"Fernando, me boy, we've loaded the pistols. He loaded this and I the one for the lieutenant, I put in a thumpin' heavy charge, so he'll overshoot, I am to give the word; but don't look at me at all. I'll manage to catch the lieutenant's eye, and do ye watch him steadily, aim at his middle and fire when he does, and all will be right."

They were all the while moving to the place selected for the duel.

"I think the ground we are leaving behind us is rather better," said someone. "So it is," answered the lieutenant with a sneer; "but it might be troublesome to carry the young gentleman down that way; here all is fair and easy."

In a few moments they were at the spot; the ground was measured off, and each man was placed, and Fernando thought there was no chance for either escaping.

"Now thin," said Terrence. "I'll walk twelve paces, count 'one, two, three, fire!' and you are both to fire at the word 'fire.' The man who reserves his shot or shoots a second before falls by my hand!"

This stern injunction seemed actually to awe the Britons, and Fernando fancied that he saw the lieutenant trembling. It was only fancy however.

The lieutenant was really calm. Notwithstanding the advice of Terrence, Fernando could not help turning his eyes from the lieutenant to watch the figure of his retiring friend. At last he stopped--a second or two elapsed--he wheeled rapidly around. Fernando now turned his eyes toward his antagonist.

Lieutenant Matson was a slender man, and when he turned his right side toward Fernando, he was not much thicker than a rail.

"One--two--three--fire!"

Fernando watched his opponent, and, at the word, raised his pistol and fired. His hat flew from his head, the crown torn completely out, while his antagonist leaped into the air, clapped his hand to the seat of his trousers and fell howling upon the ground. The people around Fernando all rushed forward, save Sukey, who came to his friend and, seeing that he was unhurt, began a mild reproof:

"Why didn't you aim higher, Fernando?"

Terrence came back a moment later and, bursting into laughter, said:

"Begorra! this will interfere with his sedentary habits for a month.

Arrah, me boy, it's proud o' ye I am."

Fernando caught two or three glances thrown at him with expression of revengeful pa.s.sion. Half a score of marines were seen coming around the rocks, and Terrence left off laughing. The three were alone against five times their number.

Fernando felt some one grasp him around the waist and hurry him from the spot, and ten minutes later they were in the boat skimming over the water back toward Baltimore.

"Put on ivery divilish st.i.tch o' canvas yer tub 'll carry," said Terrence to Luff Williams. "The Johnny Bulls won't like this a bit, and bad luck to us if they git their hands on us."

Fernando, now that the nervous strain was over, sank back in the boat, almost completely exhausted.

"Fernando, ye did it illegintly," said the young Irishman.

"Will he die?"

"Not unless the doctors kill him trying to dig it out."

"I hope they won't."

"What the divil's the difference? Before this toime next year, we'll be shootin' redcoats for sport."

"Say, what's that, shipmate?" drawled out Luff Williams.

"Where?"

"Look ahead."

"A long boat full o' British marines!" cried Terrence. "Boys, I don't like that. Mr. Luff Williams, if ye want a whole skin over yer body pull about and sail down the coast like the divil was after ye!"

In less than two minutes' time their craft was put about and went flying before the wind, under a full stretch of canvas. The boat impelled by eight stout oarsmen pressed hard in their wake.

"Heave to! heave to!" cried an officer in the pursuing boat. "Heave to, or we will fire on you!"