Читать книгу The Grip of Honor - Cyrus Townsend Brady - Страница 7

Swords are Crossed on the Sand

"Lady Elizabeth, you here?" he exclaimed, stopping short in great surprise, when he was near enough to recognize them. "What is the meaning of this?" He stood a moment as if petrified, and then came nearer. "Who is this person?" he demanded imperiously. Elizabeth started violently.

"Major Coventry! Edward!" she cried.

"Are you a 'Lady,' madam?" said O'Neill, in equal surprise, addressing the astonished girl and paying no attention to the officer.

"For what else do you take her, sir?" interrupted the officer, bristling with indignation.

"Faith, sir, I would take her 'for better or worse,' an I could," replied the Irishman, smiling.

"Unfortunately for you, that is a privilege I propose to exercise myself," said the Englishman, sternly.

"The world will doubtless share my regret, sir," said the Irishman, audaciously, a bitter pang in his breast at this unlooked for news.

"Now I wish to know who you are and how you come here and what you are doing,--an explanation, sir!" asked the officer.

"I am not accustomed to give explanations save to those who have the right to demand them," replied O'Neill.

"I have two rights, sir."

"They are?"

"First, I am betrothed to this young lady," said the officer. "Second, this," laying his hand upon his sword.

"Either of these may be sufficient from your point of view, neither of them from mine. As to the first, I refer you to the young lady herself: I will have it from her own lips, or not at all; as to the second, you will see I have a similar right of my own."

"Will you, Lady Elizabeth," said the young officer, addressing her formally, "have the goodness to inform me how you came here and who this person is, or shall I force the knowledge from him?"

"If you wish him to have the information, Miss Howard, you would, I think, better give it him. Otherwise I do not see how he is to get it," said O'Neill, grimly, his dark face flushing with anger.

"This gentleman," said the girl, faintly, pointing to the officer, "is Major Edward Coventry, the son of my guardian, Admiral Westbrooke."

"And your betrothed, Elizabeth; you forget that," added Coventry.

"I almost wish I could," she replied sharply, gathering courage. "You remind me of it too constantly for it to be pleasant, and at no time so inopportunely as at the present."

The Englishman, in great astonishment and perturbation, opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by the quicker Irishman.

"Why so, Mistress Howard?"

"Lady Elizabeth, if you please, sir," said Coventry.

"Lady Elizabeth, then. I thank you, sir, for the reminder," answered O'Neill, suavely. "Your friends on the Ranger are all interested in your welfare, and I am sure they are glad in my person to meet with and congratulate the fortunate gentleman who aspires to your hand." He smiled bitterly at her as he spoke.

"Will you tell me or not, Lady Elizabeth, who this person is and how you came here?" said Coventry, impatiently, with mounting choler at all this by-play.

"This is a lieutenant of the American Continental ship Ranger, Captain John Paul Jones--

"The d----d, murdering pirate!" exclaimed Coventry, hotly.

"Stop!" cried O'Neill, stepping forward with his hand upon his sword. "You shall neither swear before a lady, nor shall you in this scandalous manner disparage the ship of which I have the honor to be the first lieutenant, nor asperse the character of her captain. Withdraw your words, or you shall answer to me with that which hangs by your side."

"I fight only with gentlemen," said Coventry, coldly.

"My custom," replied O'Neill, promptly, "is in the main the same as your own; but I sometimes make exceptions, which I am willing to do in this instance. I require you immediately, instantly, to apologize to me for your remarks."

"And if I refuse?"

"I shall strike them down your throat with my hand."

"'S death, sir! How dare you, a beggarly adventurer, talk thus to me, an officer, a major in the army of his Gracious Majesty King George, a Coventry, a Westbrooke!"

"If you were an angel from heaven 'twould make no difference to me, for I would have you know, sir, that I am of as good a house as--ay, a better than--your own, a descendant of kings--

"An Irishman, I infer?" said Coventry, sneering.

"You are correct, sir, and my people have been chieftains for thirty generations."

"Ah, in Ireland?" The manner of the question made it another insult, but O'Neill restrained himself under the great provocation and answered coldly:

"Where else, sir, and where better? As for me, I am temporarily an officer of yonder ship, the Ranger, flying the flag of the American Republic, but I am a lieutenant in the navy of his Majesty Louis XVI. My father is a marshal of France. Will you draw now?" he cried, stepping forward impetuously.

"A brilliant array of titles surely; pity it lacks other confirmation than your word. I scarcely comprehend the catalogue," replied Coventry, coldly.

"I shall endeavor to enlighten you as to my credibility with this," said O'Neill, drawing his sword. "Now will you fight or not?"

"And if I persist in my refusal?" asked Coventry, who was playing for time.

"At this juncture I shall be under the painful necessity of killing you in the presence of your betrothed, so draw, my dear sir, if not for honor, for--

"What?"

"Life!"

"On guard!" cried the Englishman, whipping out his sword.

"Stop!" cried Elizabeth, springing between their swords. "He saved my life at the risk of his own."

"D--n him!" said the Englishman, grinding his teeth.

"Your condemnation comes too late, sir," said O'Neill, with bitter emphasis, with an expressive glance at Elizabeth, who continued impetuously:

"This gentleman treated me with the most distinguished courtesy."

"I wish that he had exhibited some of it here," interrupted Coventry again.

"I have but followed your own example," retorted O'Neill, calmly.

"Will you hear me in silence, Edward? They are not pirates--"

"I call them so," said Coventry, stubbornly.

"Enough, Lady Elizabeth," said O'Neill, taking his share in the conversation again. "Two lovers are sometimes an embarrassment of riches. This seems to be one of the times. If you will stand aside, I trust that a few moments will rid you of one or the other of them."

"I will not go!" said the girl, defiantly. "You shall not fight; you have nothing to quarrel about."

"We have you, or rather he has," responded the Irishman.

"Withdraw, I beg of you, Elizabeth. This matter must be settled," said Coventry, in his turn.

"I will not, I tell you!" persisted the girl, determinedly. "If you fight, you will fight through me."

"We are doing that now," said O'Neill, savagely. "Will you withdraw, madam?"

"I repeat it, I will not, and I wish to remind you that I do not like your tone. You are not on the deck of your ship now, sir."

"Oh, am I not? Boat ahoy, there! Price," cried O'Neill, waving his hand. A few strokes brought the whaleboat to the shore again. The crew were eager to take a hand in the fray. "Coxswain, come here," said the officer.

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the sailor; and while the other two stood wondering, the veteran seaman rolled up to them and saluted his lieutenant with a sea scrape. "Want us to take a hand in this yere little scrimmage, yer Honor?"

"No. Take this lady and her maid to that clump of rocks yonder."

"That's easy; 'tain't no fightin' at all, that. Come along, yer Leddyship," said the old man, in great disappointment, as the boat shoved off again.

"You monster!" cried Elizabeth, stamping her foot on the sand. "You are a pirate, after all!"

"As you say, madam. Stop, sir!" said O'Neill to Coventry, who made a move to approach the sailor. "My man will do no harm to her Ladyship, and you have other matters to attend to, unless you wish to shelter yourself behind a woman's petticoats."

Coventry had been playing for more time, but this was more than he could stand. "I think you have said enough, sir, and if you are ready," he said, "we will talk in another fashion."

"At your service," said the Irishman, composedly. Two swords flashed in the air simultaneously, and rang against each other with deadly purpose a moment after. Both men were masters of the weapon. Coventry had been thoroughly trained in the more direct English school; while O'Neill was a master of all the graceful tricks of the subtle fence of France and Italy. It was as pretty a play--parry and thrust--as one could hope to see, and for a time the advantage was with neither one of them. Elizabeth stood with clasped hands, her face pale with emotion, her lips parted, eagerly watching. The maid as usual was furnishing a comic side to the scene by her screams of "murder--help!" while the sailors were deeply interested in the two combatants.

Finally, after one especially vicious thrust on the part of Coventry, whose foot slipped a little, a clever parry, followed by a dashing riposte en quarte, which was met and returned with less skill than usual, O'Neill, with a graceful turn of the wrist, whirled the Englishman's sword from his hand. It flew up into the air and fell clanging on the rocks some distance away.

Coventry was unarmed and helpless before a bitter enemy. He was the stronger of the two, and it flashed into his mind to spring upon his antagonist suddenly, catch him in his arms, and overcome him by brute force; but the glittering point of his enemy's sword, shivering in the sunlight like a serpent's tongue, effectively barred the way. He had played the game and lost. If he must die in the presence of his love, he would do it like a gentleman, on the sword's point.