CHAPTER II.

"Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exiled; Is there no pity, no relenting Ruth?"

BURNS.

"But I remember now I'm in this earthly world; where to do harm Is often laudable."

MACBETH, _Act_ 4, _Sc._ 2.

The suddenness and hostile nature of Smithers' challenge so took John Ferguson by surprise that for some few minutes he could not utter a sound; and, when he had sufficiently recovered himself to speak, his adversary was out of hearing, on his mission to prepare the instruments of death. Left to a calm consideration of his position all its unpleasantnesses in a moment flashed across his mind. Here he was involved in a broil the result of which might prove fatal if persevered in, and with the brother of his kind entertainer. The successful suitor of the girl he adored, he was called upon to meet in deadly strife. John felt he could not leave the place to compromise his honour, and insult his host; at the same time he looked upon a hostile meeting with Bob Smithers with great repugnance. Much as he had been contemned by Bob, and many as were the indignities offered to him, John bore him no animosity; and he could not reconcile to his conscience the idea of steeping his hands in the blood of a fellow mortal; even in the act of self-defence, when that defence became culpable by his voluntary exposure. Yet he feared not death; no, he could stare the grim tyrant in the face, and unflinchingly meet his shafts. He even felt he could court his embrace now that he was to lose the only being he deemed life worth living for.

"Oh! Eleanor! Eleanor!" he exclaimed. "Oh! that I had not known thee! cruel fate, that I should be drawn into the vortex of thy charms only to be suffered to estimate thy worth, and then have my hopes crushed on the rocks of despair. With thee life would be an Elysium; without thee 'tis a perpetual blank; a dismal future looms in the distance like the shades of stygian darkness. Oh, cruel fates! would that thou had'st bereft me of life while yet I breathed in the delicious dream. But yet a door of hope is left me to escape this bondage. I will meet the fire of your favourite, and let him, if he so desires it, release my wearied spirit." Thus John soliloquized as he walked back to the ball-room in a state of mind bordering on insanity, and reduced to the lowest depths of love-sick despair. But a "still, small voice" faintly prompted reason, as his agitated feelings somewhat subsided, and he ceased to apostrophize his idol, as he approached the building.

He entered the room, and casually casting his eyes round the company rested them on his brother; whom, upon his obtaining an opportunity, he called out unobserved by the mass of the guests, and in a few words explained to him the incident we have just described.

"But, surely, John, you do not intend to accept the challenge?" said William.

"I have already done so," replied his brother.

"Why, you must be demented! my dear John," exclaimed the other. "Because a coarse, blustering fellow like that chooses to insult you, and then call upon you to present your body as a mark for him to shoot at, surely you are not going to forget all respect for yourself, and commit an open violation of the laws both of God and man."

"With regard to dyeing my hands in his blood you need have no fear, William," said John.

"Then why sacrifice your own life?" asked his brother.

"I could with very few regrets submit now to that dissolution which sooner or later must take place; but I am convinced Bob Smithers is too much a coward to attempt my life. The laws of his country will stare him in the face, and will prevent him pulling the trigger of a weapon with its muzzle directed to my body. His object is simply to frighten me away from the station, or induce me to act a coldness towards Eleanor; neither of which desires I intend to gratify, so will stand his fire."

"But, dear John," exclaimed his brother, "only consider, if he should be malicious enough to attempt your life, or even to wound you, what a dreadful misfortune it would be; and what would be the anguish of our dear parents. Believe me, John, it is wiser to avoid the possibility of any such catastrophe; no dishonour can be attached to you for a refusal to comply with a barbarous custom. Pray allow yourself to be dissuaded from this meeting."

"No, Will, I have no fear of the consequences. Bob Smithers will never have the courage to fire at me; and I will shame him by showing my contempt for his threats."

"Well, I am grieved at your obduracy, John, for my heart has misgivings on the result."

"Don't be agitated, William, but be convinced there is nothing to apprehend; and now come I have been absent some time, and he appointed ten minutes from the time of the challenge for the meeting."

William, perceiving it was useless to attempt dissuading his brother from his purpose, accompanied him in silence to the spot where Bob Smithers and two friends already waited. Upon the approach of the Fergusons one of the opposite party stepped forward to John, and offered to enter into the arrangement of preliminaries with his brother, whom he presumed would act as his second.

Upon John stating his brother was on the ground in that capacity William allowed himself to be led away by his co-adjutor, and followed him mechanically through his various manoeuvres; acquiescing in the arrangements, the nature of which he hardly contemplated. His mind was intent upon the iniquity of the proceedings, and he was cogitating on a scheme whereby he could obviate the necessity of having his brother's life placed in jeopardy. With this thought uppermost in his imagination he addressed himself to his companion:

"It occurs to me, Mr. Brown (for it was he), that this meeting is perfectly unnecessary. My brother has consented to it without having offered any provocation to Mr. Smithers. I think the challenge was given in a moment when that gentleman was heated by his controversy, while I have no doubt he would far prefer letting the matter drop, if no stigma would be attached to him on account of retraction. If so I can answer for both my brother and myself that the affair will not travel beyond our two selves."

"I fear, my dear sir," replied Brown, "it is useless making any such proposition to my principal, for he considers himself aggrieved by the pertinacity of your brother in his aspiring to the hand of Miss Rainsfield after he has repeatedly informed him that that young lady was affianced to himself. He is so considerably offended and chagrined at your brother's contumacious conduct, and his decided refusal to accede to any of the terms my principal has proposed, that he will not be disposed now to accept any other mode of satisfaction than this. If your brother thought of any amicable settlement he should have done so before; now there is only this course open."

"Pray don't imagine that I am making any overture with the concurrence of my brother," said William. "He, I am sorry to say, is as determined upon this course as your principal can be; but it is that very obstinacy I lament, for I look upon the whole of this affair not only as extremely heathenish and barbarous, but incompatible with the character of gentlemen."

"Your language," replied Brown, "is calculated to cast opprobrium on all those gentlemen engaged in this little matter, and requires some explanation and apology; for which, I will be glad to have a few words with you after the termination of this meeting."

"Now then," shouted the unoccupied colleague of Mr. Brown, "it surely does not require all that time and talk for you two to pace out the ground. I could have settled a dozen pairs in the time you are taking there in arranging the preliminaries of one."

"All right, Graham," said Brown, "we have settled it now;" and turning to William he continued: "We will draw for positions and you can place your man, while I do mine. Dr. Graham attends professionally in the event of either party falling; now then, sir, draw if you please. Oh! blank; your man takes the right:" saying which he hastened to put Smithers in position, while he left William standing seemingly rooted to the ground.

John, seeing his brother's indecision, came up to him, and led him away, saying, "I suppose as Smithers has taken up that position, I am to take this. They are particularly obliging; his second has arranged me so that I shall have the moon directly in my face. Very kind of him, though he does it with a mistaken object. It will enable his principal to see to miss me; for that is what he will most desire."

"Pray, John, do not let yourself be deceived," exclaimed his brother; "they mean death I am convinced, and it is not too late to come to an amicable settlement."

"Nonsense, William, exhibit some degree of fortitude," said John. "I tell you again Smithers is too much a poltroon to meditate my death; though I believe if he could effect it without making himself amenable to the laws he is not wanting in the disposition."

"Then, even if he does not," said William, "think how the matter will be talked about. The reports of the pistols are sure to be heard, and the occurrence will be known almost instantly; think also how it will wound Eleanor's feelings."

"Tell her, William! that I was irrevocably drawn into it by Smithers contrary to my own wishes, and that I met his fire without returning it."

"That is poor satisfaction for either you or her," said William "(her especially), if you come off scatheless as you anticipate, and as I hope and trust you may, having her name bandied about all over the country on the evil tongue of scandal."

"There, Will! there's a good fellow! leave me now," said John, "you see they are impatient; his second is waiting for you to bring me my weapon. I had almost forgotten that, and they did not seem disposed to refresh my memory."

William slowly walked across the ground, and took a pistol from the hands of Mr. Brown; and placing it within those of his brother retired to his position to await the issue of the firing.

Upon the enquiry being asked if both were ready, and an affirmative being returned, the signal was given, and a report of a double discharge reverberated in the stillness of the bush. William instantly rushed to his brother, and found him standing with his right arm still extended in the air, in the position in which he had fired, while his left hand covered his eyes and features which were suffused in the purple dye.

"Merciful heaven!" cried William, "my dear brother, where are you hit?"

His question to John was answered in a burst of boisterous merriment from the opponents, and he hastily turned upon them to enquire the cause of their unseemly hilarity; while Smithers advanced towards his late antagonist, and replied: "See to him, he must be severely hit, for he bleeds apparently profusely."

"There is a trick in this, William," said his brother. "'Tis true I am hit, but not with lead; I am blinded with what appears to me to be red currant jam."

Another roar of laughter from Smithers and his friends succeeded this confession, and the perpetrators of the practical joke indulged their risibilities to the full; evidently congratulating themselves upon the success of their plans. Their self-complacency, however (at least of one of them), was brought to an abrupt termination; for as the truth of the plot flashed across the mind of William, as the instigator of the proceedings approached to witness the effects of his scurrile trick, the high-spirited youth sprang towards him, and avenged his brother's ignominy by felling the coward to the ground.

Graham and Brown instantly rushed to the spot, and interposed; the former seizing William, while the latter confronted him, and stated that if there was any cause of quarrel, it could be settled in a manner befitting gentlemen; "and unless," said he, "I am mistaken in Mr. Smithers he will instantly require satisfaction for your outrageous assault."

"Unhand me, sir," said William, as he shook himself from the iron grasp of the pugnacious doctor, and turning to Brown he exclaimed: "You speak, forsooth, of requiring the satisfaction of a gentleman; you and your compeers, who debase yourselves by not only countenancing an insult from your friend and patron to my brother, but by making yourselves parties to a trick which no gentleman would be guilty of. As for your prototype he has not only proved himself a blackguard by having recourse to the subterfuge of a plea of wounded honour to perform a despicable action; but a coward in taking a mean advantage of a gentleman under the hospitable roof of his brother. See, the viper actually slinks away! The derogation he intended for another reflects opprobrium on his own infamous character; and the consciousness of his venality deprives him even of the power of defence." Excited as William was, and inflammatory as was his language, they failed to stir the blood of Smithers, whose baseness was exemplified in his cowardice; for he actually left the spot (as William's remarks would infer) in the midst of the young man's vituperations.

John Ferguson took his brother's arm, and led him also away from the scene, saying as he did so: "Calm yourself, William, and never mind me, I am not hurt, though still almost blind by that stuff in my eyes. The disgrace of this proceeding will reflect more to his dishonour than to mine. The report of our pistols has given alarm for I see people coming this way, so I will get my horse saddled and take my departure."

"Do not depart yet, John," said his brother. Remain till morning at any rate, and take leave of Mr. and Mrs. Smithers; they will think very strangely of your sudden departure.

"They are sure to hear of the affair," replied John, "and my departure will save the unpleasantness of a meeting. I will leave it to you to make what explanation you like to them; as also to account to Eleanor for it in what way you think best. She will no doubt have a version of the matter from Bob Smithers; but I have a better opinion of her than to imagine she will credit the exaggerated pseudology of malicious gossips."

For John to wash himself, change his attire, segregate Joey from the dependent's festivities, get his horse in and saddle him, was the work only of about half an hour; and the whole of it was performed without notice from any one belonging to the establishment. John Ferguson and Joey then started, and as the retreating sound of their horses feet were lost in the stillness of the night, William retraced his steps to the scene of gaiety; not to join again in the mirth, but to take an opportunity of detailing the particulars of the late proceedings to Tom Rainsfield; judging that he would be the best channel through whom they could reach the ears of Eleanor. With that intention he sought out his friend, and was astonished to find that Bob Smithers had already communicated the fun, as he called it, to some of his choice companions; though he had studiously avoided any mention of his rencontre with himself.

It was at an hour close on the heels of morn that the guests broke up the ball; and consequently it was far advanced in the forenoon before the assemblage in the breakfast-parlour was by any means numerous. It is true some of the bachelors had taken their departure; but those in the bondage of matrimony, and swains who were to act as convoys to the ladies, of course had to wait the time and pleasure of the fair ones; and, we must confess it, many were not loath to be detained by their tender charges.

Our friends were about the first to leave, as having a longer journey to perform than most of the guests, and neither of them desiring to prolong a stay where the occurrences had been so painful to one of their party, they bade a kind adieu to their entertainers; and took the road at a sharp trot, which they kept up for some hours, notwithstanding their fatigues of the previous day and night.

We think we informed the reader, in an early chapter of our history, that Eleanor was (unlike most native girls) not a good horse-woman; and that it was therefore an exercise she did not frequently indulge in. It will not be wondered at then that the long ride to Brompton, and the constant exercise there, had fatigued her. Her horse showing symptoms of restlessness at starting it was proposed by William that he should affix a leading rein to the bit ring of her horse's bridle, and ride by her side with it in his hand. The idea was commended by the party, and was adopted. They started, William and Eleanor leading the way, Mrs. Rainsfield following, and Tom and Kate bringing up the rear, and continued, as we have said, at a brisk pace for some hours.

They had accomplished about half the distance to Strawberry Hill when they approached rather an abrupt turn in the bush; which, in its acuteness, prevented them from seeing, until they came immediately upon it, a large tree which stood right in the centre of the road; or rather a path had been beaten on either side of it. The main track led by the right side of the trunk, and William guided his own horse and that of his companion to take it; but Eleanor's animal became suddenly refractory, and made a sudden deviation to pass the tree on the other side. This movement was so unexpected that neither equestrian was prepared for it; and the two horses, each taking opposite sides of the tree, were brought to a check in their rapid course by the leading rein we have mentioned. At the time William had got it firmly fixed round his left wrist, and could not (when he saw the accident that would inevitably occur) disengage it; for so instantaneously did it happen that he had hardly time for meditation before the shock took place, and both riders were hurled from their saddles with considerable force. William, though prostrate, still kept his hold of his own bridle and the rein of Eleanor's horse; and rose with considerable pain, though (with the exception of numerous bruises) uninjured, to lead the horses free of the tree.

With Eleanor, however, the accident had resulted far differently. When the check was felt by her horse the leading rein made him wheel his head suddenly against the trunk; and, his fore feet tripping him as he did so, he fell forward to the ground. Eleanor was thrown from her saddle; and, but for one of those inauspicious events which so frequently occur to mar our well-being, would have come off more lightly than her companion. As it was, in her precipitation, her habit in some way became entangled in her horse's caparisons; and, instead of being thrown clear of danger, she was hurled with some force to the ground at the animal's feet The horse also fell; and with the whole weight of his body across her legs.

It was the work of a moment for the rest of the party to pull up their steeds, and for Kate to leap from her saddle to the side of her friend; and another for Tom and William to extricate her from her dangerous position.

"Oh, dearest Eleanor," passionately exclaimed Kate, "tell me that you are not seriously hurt. Oh, that horrid, horrid horse!"

"I fear I am, Kate dear," replied the poor girl, "I am very much bruised, and my leg now I try to move it gives me great pain: I am afraid it is broken."

"Oh, gracious goodness! what shall we do?" cried Kate; "lean on me, Eleanor love, and see if you can rise."

The poor girl did so; but the pain was more than even her wonted heroism could endure. With a faint cry of agony she sank fainting into the arms of Tom, who was standing at her side ready to support her in case of need, and there unfortunately proved to be need; for Eleanor, as she herself had anticipated, had broken her leg.

The unconscious form of the suffering creature was carried into the adjoining shade, and gently placed on the turf in a reclining position; while the ladies speedily had recourse to those gentle restoratives, with which they are happily at all times so ready, in cases where the sympathies of their kindly natures are brought into play.

We masculine mortals plume ourselves on our knowledge of the female character; which we profess to read as the astrologers of old did "the gems that deck eve's lustrous mantle;" and to divine their secret wishes, fancies, and inclinations, as the professors of clairvoyance do their susceptible pupils. But we are inclined to think woman's heart is the true arcana of life; at least of this fact we are certain, woman's troubles can only be appreciated by woman; and woman in sorrow can only be soothed, or woman in pain can only be alleviated by those whose anodynes are the effects of intuitive impulsions, arising from the reciprocal communings of kindred spirits. Oh, woman! bless'd woman! Favoured daughters of Eve! thou never shinest in such perfection as when thy ministering hand assuages the pain of a sick couch. Happy is the man, with all his flaunted superiority, who, in the time of indisposition, when his spirit wavers indecisively between this life and the other, is blessed with the possession of thy tender solicitude, to smooth the passage to the mysterious bourne, or nourish the reviving spirit with thy calm, patient, and may be, vigil-dimm'd orbs, ever watching for returning convalescence. But we are digressing; our feelings of gratitude to the sex are carrying us away from the subject of our narrative, and we must apologize to our fair readers for our abstractedness.

Through the tender care of her friends Eleanor speedily recovered her consciousness, though only to be made aware, by contemplation, of the dreadfulness of her situation. She was suffering the most excruciating agony, and was more than twenty miles from any assistance. The thought would have subdued the stout heart of many a man, but with her evoked not a murmur. She bore her sufferings, both bodily and mental, with her characteristic heroism,--a heroism that admitted of no complaint,--a perfect subjugation of the feelings, passively enduring pain with an annihilation of all querulousness,--one that in a man would have distinguished the bold spirit; but in a woman denoted the sublimity of that nature, which, in its gentle texture, shines out in bold relief and claims the laurels for an endurance which extinguishes, in its sublimated lustre, the baser material of the stern "lords of the creation."

A hasty council was now formed in debate as to the best means that could be adopted to procure assistance for their wounded friend. It was proposed first that she should attempt to get back to Brompton; then that one of the gentleman should ride back at once, and procure some conveyance; then that the ladies should return to Brompton, and obtain the requisite assistance, while the gentlemen constructed a litter and carried the invalid as far on the road as they could, or until they were met by assistance. To all of these propositions Eleanor, however, gave her emphatic veto, and declared that she would not consent to return; but affirmed her willingness and ability to proceed to Strawberry Hill.

This desire again was energetically combatted by her friends, who argued that such a course would endanger, not only her limb, but possibly her life; and that it would be far better for her to waive her scruples, and consent to return to the Smithers'. But to all entreaties on that head she turned a deaf ear. "I will mount my horse," she said, "with your assistance, and by going quietly I will be perfectly able to reach home. So do not, my dear friends, make yourselves uneasy on my account."

At this juncture when all was indecision, Kate started up and exclaimed: "Now I'll tell you what to do. Dear Eleanor says she will not return to Brompton, and that she would prefer going home; a thought has just come into my head and I will act upon it. There was a doctor at the party yesterday, and I heard Mr. Robert Smithers ask him to stop until this afternoon; so I will ride back, and catch him before he leaves, and bring him on here; but, in the meantime, you must assist Eleanor into her saddle, and while William leads the horse, Mr. Rainsfield ought to walk at her side and protect her from falling; and, if Mrs. Rainsfield would only ride on before and send out the spring cart to meet you, the arrangements would be complete."

The boldness of the scheme so astonished her friends that Kate was on her legs and ready to mount before they could think of objecting to it. Eleanor was the first and most earnest in dissuading her from so rash a step; but all opposition was cut short by the spirited girl herself, who said she would not be dissuaded; and addressing her brother said: "Come, Will, assist me into the saddle and don't detain me; for I will go, and there is no use of either of you accompanying me; your assistance will be required by dear Eleanor. Do as I propose, and you will find I will be at Strawberry Hill with the doctor very shortly after you."