CHAPTER II.

"And ruder words will yet rush in To spread the breach that words begin."--_Moore._

We pass over the time spent at Claremont Castle, and again introduce our readers to the dining-room at the Towers, where a large party sat down to a very handsome repast. At the head of the table sat the Marchioness doing the honours of her brother's table with the greatest grace; she had but lately made the Marquis happy by the tribute of a son and heir to his titles. On the right of the Earl sat his bride elect in blushing loveliness, and down the long table we observe many old faces amongst a tribe of new. Talking to a pretty girl sat Sir Richard, about the middle of the table; directly opposite him was the Captain. Frank, lately returned from the Mediterranean, sat a few seats from the Marchioness. Then there was Scroop, Wilson, and Sir Harry Maynard, Major Forster, young Pringle, and numbers of ladies, amongst whom Lady Florence shone next Johnny, who was her devoted admirer; Mr. Lennox, Mr. Power, the clergyman, and Mr. Ravensworth made up a large company. The greatest merriment prevailed, and every one was speaking of the approaching marriage.

"How have you amused yourself to-day?" said the Earl, who had been in Edinburgh with Mr. Ravensworth and Ellen, as he cut into the fine haunch of venison that smoked on its massive silver plate; "it has been snowing so hard, I suppose it kept you in the house."

"Snow doesn't keep me in," said the Captain; "I and Pringle were riding, though most preferred the ladies' company to snowy roads."

"Ah! we had the best of it," said Sir Richard, "had we not, Sir Harry; knocking about the billiard balls with the fair occupants of the Castle?"

"What? Why you don't mean to say you played billiards all day, Sir Richard?"

"Oh, dear no, my Lord; we spent most of the afternoon in admiring your fine gallery of family pictures; there's a long line of De Veres."

"Did you observe any peculiarity in the pictures?"

"I can't say I did, my Lord," answered Sir Richard.

"I did though," said Sir Harry; "and that was--excuse me, Mr. Lennox, but you are taking white wine with the brown vein of the venison"--(Mr. L. rectified his error)--"that was--hock, if you please,"--(to the footman)--"yes,--what was I saying? Some jelly--I thank you,--yes, yes,--that your Lordship had placed all the old personages on the right side, and all the young on the left side of the fireplaces,--a curious crotchet--some beer,--I thank you."

The Colonel was a great _bon vivant_.

"It is no arrangement," said the Earl; "but since the time of Earl Hugh, or the Roundhead peer as we call him, none of the family ever became old."

"A most curious fancy indeed! Here, Andrew, some more hock; this venison is beyond all praise, my Lord, cooked to the nicety of a minute,--a singular fancy to prefer dying so early,--ha! ha! ha!"

"It is no fancy, Sir Harry; you have evidently not heard of the Weird of the Wentworths."

"Do, Lord Wentworth, tell it to us,--you have so often promised," said Ellen.

"Of course," said the Earl; "I must do whatever a lady asks,--especially what Miss Ravensworth wishes."

He then told the singular narrative of Augusta de Vere, which we shall not repeat, as our readers already are acquainted with it. Lord Wentworth had merely wished to tell Ellen; but as he told a story remarkably well, before he had finished he found the whole table listening to him.

"A most singular and interesting story, my Lord," said Mr. Lennox; "but I opine we must give it the same belief we give ghost stories in general."

"No, Mr. Lennox," said the Marchioness, "this is quite unlike all other stories, because its truth is proved by facts in the Peerage:--you will find no De Vere since Hugh, Earl Wentworth, ever lived to be old."

"Certainly a curious coincidence, Lady Arranmore; and possibly explained by the simple fact, the De Veres are a short-lived family."

"But," said Lady Florence, "they were very long-lived before, as the portraits show; you must never tell a De Vere you misbelieve The Weird."

"There's no doubt about the matter," said the Captain; "with everything to attest it, he must be a fool who does not credit it; you will see all of us will be knocked on the head soon enough,--girls first; but a short and merry life for me!"

"Indeed, John, I don't see why we should die before you," said Lady Arranmore. "I fear you will be the first, with your fights and duels."

"Devil a fear; come, I'll bet I outlive both of you!"

"Come, I don't like this jesting," said the Marquis; "it is a serious thing; and for my part I am like Lennox, and don't believe in such nonsense."

"Nor I," said Sir Harry; "you are all hale and well; why should you think you will die so early? What a splendid pine!--will you allow me to give you some, Lady Florence?"

"I should think it was enough to make you quite nervous, Lady Arranmore," said Ellen, still thinking on the Weird,--"it is such a dreadful thing."

"No, Miss Ravensworth, we have become so accustomed to it, and brought up in the belief, we are almost proud of our doom,--we have learned to love it almost. After all, I should not like to grow old and--"

"Hideous," said the Captain; "no, no,--whom the gods love die young!"

"I fear, then, you will be the first old man, John, in our family," said Lady Florence, laughing.

"A good one! How d'you like that, Captain?" said Sir Richard, filling his glass. "Your health, De Vere!"

Without replying the Captain drank wine.

"If this is really an established fact," said Mr. Power, "I think it should make you very serious; it is doubtless intended as a warning; and if your days are to be short on earth, do you ever think that, after death, there is an endless existence of bliss or misery?"

"After all," said the Earl, "you are no better than we are, Mr. Power;--none of us know our end."

"True, my Lord; but if, as you say, none of your family live long,--and you are now all grown up,--the time is short; and you should take the more earnest heed to these matters."

"That is not my theory, Power: 'Happy for the day, careless for the morrow,'--that's Scripture; at least it was when I was a boy," said the Captain, whose ideas of the Bible were not very correct.

"This is the very perversion of Scripture, my young friend; when it bids us not be careful of the morrow, it means we are to lay all our cares on One who has promised to carry them."

"Well, Power, I am not learned in divinity; you stick to your trade, and I will to mine; you be a soldier of God, and I will a soldier of the King, or the devil, if you like it!"

A suppressed murmur of disapprobation followed this, and the Earl changed the conversation by a totally irrelevant remark. Sir Richard, unfortunately for himself, as the story will show, brought back the conversation by saying they had found some striking resemblances to the present family in some of the portraits.

"Indeed!" said the Earl. "And in whom did you find my likeness?"

"In the seventh Earl,--Algernon, I think was his name,--a young man in a hunting suit. Then we found out a likeness for Lady Florence, in her grandaunt Guendolen; and for the Marchioness in the Abbess Augusta; but the best of all was--"

"Don't, please!" said Lady Florence, whispering across Johnny; "don't say it; John doesn't like it." (Whether he did not comprehend Lady Florence's meaning, or whether he wished to prove the truth of her assertion, we know not; but in an evil moment he finished his remark)--

"--was the likeness to the Captain."

"And to whom do you liken me?" said the Captain, in a gloomy voice.

"To whom? Why,--ha! ha! ha! I shall die with laughter,--it was so like,--the old Roundhead peer, Hugh. I'faith you might have been brothers!"

"I wish to God you would find likenesses to yourself, and leave me alone! I like that old murderer, egad!--I like that!"

"Come, there's no harm meant,--it's a mere joke."

"D--n joking," muttered the Captain,--"I like the old Roundhead, egad!"

Lady Arranmore, fearing there was something looming here, bowed to Ellen Ravensworth, and the ladies rose and left the room. The Captain looked gloomy, and appeared to have taken great umbrage at the unhappy resemblance; it was not a newly found out likeness, and even before this he had shown great wrath at the allusion. It was never quite evident why he disliked it, but at any rate it _was_ evident he did so. When the ladies were retired, Sir Richard, anxious to gloss over his mistake, began--

"Really De Vere, you take mortal offence at a _jeu d'esprit_."

"Sir Richard, you seem determined to work me up to-night. I advise you to think twice before you do so, or by heaven you may repent it."

"Why, De Vere, I think you are--I was going to say--crazy to-night: I merely said you were like Earl Hugh--you are like, and there let it end, I shall say no more."

The Captain was not inclined to let matters drop so easily, and replied, "I shan't drop it in such a jolly hurry; the fact is you have laid a plot to annoy me: egad you have, you did it before the ladies, and now you're raking the accursed thing up again, which proves it. You compared me to that d--able old renegade just to enrage me, by G-- you did. I like that d--d, round-headed old ----! You have insulted me, Sir Richard. I am not the man to brook insults--you will apologize--I demand an apology."

The whole room were listening in dead silence to the quarrel, and Johnny, who had not yet left, was in high delight at the prospect of a scene. No one interfered yet, and the loud voice of the Captain as he demanded an apology to most seemed at the least ominous.

"I have done nothing to give me cause to make an apology; I appeal to the table, should I make one? Lord Wentworth, what say you?"

"You have insulted me, Sir Richard, and by G-- I'll have one, or know the reason why. I don't care who says you should not, I say you shall--I am waiting for an apology!"

"You may wait, De Vere, till doomsday,--you may sit there till you die,--but never will I apologize when I have done no fault."

"You have committed a fault. Ha! I see you are incapable of feelings like a man of honour; you must be forced to feel as you should. Sir Richard, you say you did not intend to insult me, I say you lie most foully in your throat; there--will that do?"

A thrill of horror ran like an electric shock through the company.

"Ha! you give me the lie, do you?" said Sir Richard, blanching with rage, "then take that."

As he spoke he threw a glassful of port wine across the table: the liquid hit the Captain on his mouth and chin, and poured over his orders and medals, for he was in full uniform. The revenge was quick as thought! Uttering a fearful malediction, the enraged officer seized a heavy cut glass tumbler, and threw it at Sir Richard with unerring aim. The Baronet dodged aside from the missile, and saved himself a blow on the centre of his forehead, but he did not escape. The tumbler struck him a terrific blow on his temples, and, as it flew into a dozen fragments, inflicted a terrible wound. In an instant, as by one consent, the whole table sprung to their feet. For a moment, too paralyzed to speak, a deathly silence reigned. The Captain's face was lit by a fiendish smile, as he wiped the red wine off his breast. Sir Richard's face was black with ire, as he staunched the blood that covered his forehead with his kerchief. The two foes looked as if they could have leaped the barrier that severed them, and locked in each other's arms divided not to death.

Soon a confused murmuring arose on all sides, and then voices grew louder.

"I wouldn't stand that," said Wilson.

"Nor I," said Frank.

"Give it to him, pitch into him, confound him, thrash him, Captain," cried the Marquis, whose Irish blood was at boiling point.

"Yes, pitch him out of the window,--kick him out of doors--d--n him," cried Frank, catching the fire. "He had insult enough to enrage a Moses."

"True--by heaven, sir! a glass of wine thrown at his face, good wine too, a most ungentlemanly trick, and unbecoming an officer of his Majesty's service," said Sir Harry.

"They should fight it out," remarked Forster.

"Yes, give it him, Captain, do," said Johnny.

The clamour now grew uproarious, when the Earl's voice was heard, loud and commanding,--"Silence, gentlemen, I insist! I _will_ be heard at my own table. Silence, cease this brawling."

When order was restored, the Earl continued: "I am deeply grieved such an unjustifiable proceeding should have occurred at my table--that a scene which would have disgraced a pot-house should have been enacted here. I am surprised at Sir Richard's resenting an angry insult in the way he did, and at my brother giving him the lie, and then so far forgetting what was due to himself, and to me, as to fling glass at any guest of mine. I fear but one result--an hostile meeting--will wipe out the dishonour. The thing is done now, and cannot be undone, but at least let seconds be chosen, and all done in a decent and gentlemanly way. In conclusion, I am much hurt at my brother-in-law the noble Marquis hounding on the antagonists in the way he did, and at Frank's supporting him. I would have expected a boy, like Johnny Ravensworth might have forgot himself. I do trust this is the first and last time such a disgraceful brawl will occur here, at least while I am master of the Towers!"

The Earl then sat down, and was complimented by several of the gentlemen for thus expressing his opinions. Mr. Power urged the plea of apology, but little heed was taken of him.

"Will you be my second, Arranmore?" said the Captain.

"Faith, not I," replied the Marquis, "I have made fool enough of myself already. I will not meddle in this unlucky matter any more."

"You have no such scruples, old boy," said the Captain.

"Not I," said Scroop, "I am your man."

"And will you be my second, Wilson?" said Sir Richard, his voice tremulous with passion still.

"With pleasure, we are quite _au fait_ at these things on board ship."

"Come, Scroop, let's get to business; after all, Musgrave, he had no business to give you the lie, and you retaliated the broadside well."

"And he found his match by G--," said Scroop, as he and Wilson walked aside, and in the most cold-blooded manner arranged everything with the utmost despatch--Time, place, weapons, and distance. "Time, at once; place, the Holly Walk; weapons, pistols; distance, twelve yards."

When these regulations were announced the Captain ordered Andrew, who then entered the room having got an inkling all wasn't right, to go to his room, and bring a mahogany case down.

"Is't to be a duel?" said the old man, handing him the case, which the Captain unlocked, and produced two duelling pistols with black ebony handles, and inlaid with silver; on each was a silver plate, and on one neatly engraved three names with dates after them,--three victims to the Captain's sure aim!

"You'll gie's permission to hae ane keek at yer shootin', Captain."

"No--go to the devil."

"Sure, Captain, you're no in earnest; I was speerin' if--"

"Come then, but for God's sake cease your clavering," said the Captain, cutting the old butler short.

The whole of the gentlemen then rose and followed the principals and their seconds to the fatal spot. In those days little heed was given to the evil of duelling, and it would have made many modern ears tingle had they listened to the light converse on the road. The Marquis and Major Forster were betting on the likelihood of the Captain's being shot or not, as Sir Richard fired first, and the Major offered ten to one against him, which the Marquis took, saying, he had little fear he would miss his shot, unless he was hit through the head; for even if he was mortally wounded in any other part he would still give a dying, and probably a killing shot--he was so famous for his pistol-shooting. The two antagonists were each conversing with his second; Frank and Sir Harry were laughing and joking; the Earl and a large party were the quietest; and some few, such as Mr. Power and Mr. Ravensworth, came not to see the duel, but to strive and arrange a friendly termination yet. A short distance behind, old Andrew, with a tribe of footmen, followed; the butler was descanting on the wonderful sureness of the Captain's shot.

"I would not be him to-night though, and Sir Richard getting first fire--that's not a gentlemanly plan--both should fire together," said an English valet.

"Deil a fear o' the Captain--an' he be na shot in the heed, he'll hae his man! See him, he is as cool an' unskeered as though he had the first bleeze! Sir Richard is fey, I saw it a' the day--puir young man--his time is oot!"

"It isna the first chiel he has shot," said young Wilton, who appeared just then.

"Deed no, Jack--there's mayhap three, and mayhap mair names scratched on his weapon--Mr. John was ay a quarrelsome-like chiel--I mind him frae his childhood, he was ay fechting and pummeling, an' noo he has grown a man he but fechts wi' pistols."

"If neither are shot will they fight it out still, Andrew?"

"In troth will they--but dinna you trouble yer pate wi' sic nonsense--the Captin is na goin' to miss! Sir Richard I'll na swer to, but I wud tak' my aith _he'll_ no miss."