The Second G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “I must take my chance,” Frank said quietly. He had himself begged the gunmaker to say little to anyone about his shooting. “Come across to my quarters. I suppose he will be sending over there at once.”

  They had just taken their seats when there was a hurried knock on the door, and Wilmington came in, pale and agitated.

  “This cannot go on, Wyatt!” he exclaimed. “You put me on my word of honour and then take it up yourself. Don’t you see that I am hopelessly disgraced in letting you be Marshall’s victim for what he said of me. I shall go to him and insist upon my right to take the matter up myself.”

  “Sit down a minute, Wilmington, and be reasonable. If I get shot you can, if you like, go out and get shot next day. But I don’t mean to get shot. There is one broad distinction between you and me—you can’t shoot, and I can. Marshall could kill you without the slightest risk to himself, and I flatter myself that if I chose to do so, I could kill him with the same certainty. I shall not choose to do so. I don’t want the blood of any man—not even of a ruffian like this—to rest upon my head. I shall simply prevent him from ever fighting another duel.”

  Captain Lister and the young cornet gazed at Frank as if they doubted his sanity.

  “Do you quite know what you are saying, lad?” the former said kindly, after a pause. “You don’t look as if you had been taking anything before dinner, and we know that you are always abstemious at mess; still you are talking strangely.”

  “I daresay you think so,” Frank replied with a smile. “You fancy the excitement of this quarrel has a little turned my head. But it has not done so. In the first place, I have learnt to be so quick in firing that I am sure to get first shot.”

  “Yes, you might do that, lad,” Captain Lister said sadly; “but it would be the very worst thing you could do. With a hurried shot like that it would be ten to one you missed him, and then he would quietly shoot you down.”

  “Not only shall I not miss him,” Frank replied, “but I will lay you any wager you like that I will carry off his trigger-finger, and probably the second and third. Feel my hand. You see I am perfectly cool—as cool as I shall be tomorrow—and I do not think there is anything wild about my eye. It is simply as I say: I am a first-rate shot—probably as much better than Marshall as he is better than Wilmington. Ah, here is his man! Please arrange it for tomorrow morning, if possible. The sooner it is over the better.”

  Captain Lister nodded and went out. He returned in a quarter of an hour.

  “It is to come off tomorrow,” he said, “at six o’clock. It is to be in the field outside the wall, on the other side of the town. I have told my man to have the dogcart ready at half-past five. It did not take us long to arrange matters. His second is Rankin, of his regiment; and I don’t think he liked the job at all. He began by saying:

  “‘I am afraid, Captain Lister, that there is no chance of our arranging this unhappy business. Nothing short of a public apology, and the acknowledgment that Mr. Wyatt was in liquor when he uttered the words will satisfy my principal, and I had great difficulty in bringing him even to assent to that.’

  “I said that you had not the most remote idea of making any apology whatever. Therefore, we had only to arrange the preliminaries of a meeting.

  “This was soon done. I could see that the young fellow was very much cut up over the affair, and that he had undertaken to act for Marshall because he was afraid to refuse. It did not take us five minutes altogether. I looked in at the doctor’s after we separated, to ask him to go with us.

  “‘It is none of my aid you are likely to want, Captain Lister,’ he said, ‘and I protest against the whole affair; it is nothing short of cold-blooded murder. Still, of course, I will go.’

  “And now, lad, let us hear something more about your shooting.”

  “It is just as I told you, Captain Lister. I suppose I have an unusually good eye and steady hand, and have a sort of natural aptitude for shooting. Woodall said that he considered me as good a shot as any man in the country, if not better. I am afraid we mustn’t fire a pistol here, or I think I could convince you.”

  “No, we mustn’t fire in barracks at this time of the evening, Wyatt. But if you are as good as that, the prospects are better than I thought they were. What can you do, lad?”

  “I can hit a penny spun up into the air eighteen times out of twenty with my right hand, and sixteen or seventeen with my left.”

  “Is that so? Well, that ought to be good enough for anything,” Lister said. “It sounds almost miraculous. Now, let us have a look at your pistols, lad.”

  “They are all right,” Frank said. “I was using them this afternoon, and cleaned them when I came back.”

  “And you really mean to aim at his hand?”

  Frank nodded.

  “Well, of course, if you go a little high or a little low you will still have him; but if you go an inch or two wide you may miss him altogether. I would much rather, lad, that you aimed at the body. The fellow has never shown mercy to anyone, and there is no reason why you should show mercy to him.”

  “Don’t be afraid of my missing him.” And Frank spoke so confidently that his hearers felt satisfied he must at least have some good foundation for his faith in his skill.

  “Well, I think you had better turn in now, Wyatt. Will you come across and have a cup of coffee with me before you start?”

  “Thank you. Will you mind sending your servant across to call me at a quarter to five? I am not at all good at waking myself.”

  “All right, lad; I don’t think I am likely to get much sleep.”

  “Don’t say much to the others when you go out,” Frank said. “You can tell them that, from what I say, it won’t be such a one-sided affair as they seem to think.”

  “All right. I will tell them as much as that, for they are in such a state of mind about it that it would be kind to give them a little consolation.”

  “By the way, Captain Lister, do I go out in uniform or in mufti?”

  “In mufti, lad. Put on a gray or dark-coloured suit. Gray is the best; but, above all, don’t take a coat with conspicuous buttons or anything to catch the eye, that would be a fatal mistake. Good night, lad; I shall turn in in better spirits than I expected to do.”

  Wilmington did not speak, but grasped Frank’s hand warmly.

  “Don’t come out tomorrow,” Frank said.

  “I couldn’t,” the lad replied in a broken voice, “but I shall see you before you start.”

  “The major will come on with the doctor,” Captain Lister said, as, after taking their coffee next morning, they went out to the trap standing at the door. Frank looked round the barrack yard, but no one was about. “I sent them all away before you came, Wyatt. The lads all looked so woebegone that I put it to them whether they considered that the sight of their faces was likely to improve your nerve. As to young Wilmington, he was like a ghost. I had almost to threaten to put him under arrest before I could persuade him to go without seeing you. No one will be there but the major. He told me that he considered it his duty to represent the regiment, but he quite approved of all the others staying away. He said the fewer there were present at an infamous business like this the better. By the way, I made a condition with Rankin that you were to be placed back to back, and neither was to move until the signal was given; and I insisted that this should be by pistol shot, as otherwise you could not both see the signal equally well. I said that this was fairer than for you to stand face to face, and would increase the chances of the affair not being a fatal one.”

  “Thank you, Lister. I was wondering whether you had made that condition, for if we stood ready to fire he might draw his trigger before I did, and things might go quite differently to what I had decided on. A bad marksman might hold his fire, but Marshall would rely so implicitly on his skill that he would be sure to try and get first shot; for if I fired first and missed, he would know that the feeling against him if he shot me down afterwards would be very strong.”
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  “Now jump up, lad; I will take the reins. All right.”

  The soldier servant standing at the head of the horse released the hold of the reins, swung himself up behind as the horse started and they drove out through the barracks gates, followed by the eyes of all Frank’s comrades who, as soon as they heard the sound of the wheels, ran to their windows or doors to take, as they believed, their last look at him. They had, indeed, obtained slight consolation from the words with which Captain Lister had sent them off to their quarters—“Keep up your spirits, lads. There is many a slip between the cup and the lip, and I have strong hopes that the affair is not going to turn out as bad as you fancy.”

  CHAPTER IX

  A DUEL

  Captain Lister was very much more nervous than his principal as they drove on to the ground. In spite of Frank’s confidence he could not bring himself to believe that the young fellow could be a match for a practised duellist, although he had, after he had left Frank’s room the evening before, gone into the town and knocked up the gunmaker, who had sometime before gone to bed. When, however, Captain Lister confided to him the nature of his errand, he fully confirmed what Frank had said.

  “Of course, I have not seen him stand up before a man with a pistol in his hand,” he said, “but as far as shooting goes I would back him against any man in England; and I don’t think, Captain Lister, that you need be afraid of him in the matter of nerve. Pistol shooting depends upon two things—nerve and eye; and he could never be the shot he is if he had not an extraordinary amount of both qualities. I will wager that he will be as cool as a cucumber. How are they to stand?”

  “Back to back, and to turn at the signal of a pistol shot.”

  “Then he is all right, Captain. You need not worry about him. He is as quick as lightning, and he will get first shot, never fear, and more than that, I wouldn’t mind betting that he carries off one of the fellow’s fingers.”

  “Why, how do you know that?” Captain Lister asked in surprise. “He can’t have been here since I left him.”

  “No, sir, he has not been here; but he told me that if he ever got into a duel he would aim at his opponent’s hand, and he has been practising specially for that. He had a target made on purpose, but that did not please him, and we rigged out an arm holding a pistol and fixed it to the target just in the position it would be if the painted figure were firing at him. We had to have a rough sort of hand made of iron, for it would have cost a fortune if had been made of anything else. Sometimes he would have it painted white, sometimes gray, sometimes black, either of which it might be, if a man wore gloves, but it did not make any difference to him; and I have seen him hit it twenty times following, over and over again.”

  All this had been very reassuring to Captain Lister, and if it had not been for Marshall’s reputation he would have gone to the place of meeting feeling confident that all would go well, but the fact that it was Frank’s first duel, while Marshall had been in some eight or ten affairs, prevented his feeling otherwise than nervous as to the result. They were first upon the ground; the major and doctor arriving two minutes later.

  “You may as well tell the major, Captain Lister, that he need not be alarmed. He is looking terribly anxious, and so is the doctor.”

  Captain Lister nodded, and went up to them as they dismounted from the gig. “I fancy that it is going to be all right, doctor,” he said, “Wyatt tells me so himself, and what he says is confirmed by Woodall, the gunsmith. It seems the lad is an extraordinarily good shot. I told you last night that he had been practising a good deal, but I did not like to raise your hopes too high until I had seen Woodall. I will bet you a guinea that Wyatt comes out of it all right.”

  “I could not bet on it, Lister, though I would pay the guinea with greater pleasure than I ever felt at winning one; but I hear that Marshall is a very quick shot.”

  “So is Wyatt, major, and as the young ’un has been practising regularly, I fancy he will be as quick or quicker than the other.”

  “Well, I hope to heaven that it may turn out so. Nothing would please me more than that Wyatt should put a ball into the fellow’s head. Men like him are a curse to the army.”

  “I don’t think he will put a ball in his head, major, but I shall not be surprised if he carries off one of his fingers. He has conscientious scruples about killing the man, and he is going to aim at his hand.”

  The Major shook his head. “I am afraid that settles it, Lister. It may do for a good shot to try experiments of that sort with a bad one, but not against a man like Marshall. It would be far better for him to aim at the body. That is a good big mark, and if he is as good a shot as you say, and is quick enough to pull his trigger first, it would make matters safe, but as to aiming at his hand it would be sheer madness. You tell him what I think of it. Ah! here comes the others.”

  As soon as Captain Marshall and his second alighted, the latter came forward and spoke to Captain Lister. They talked for a minute together and then proceeded to choose the ground. This was quickly done, as there were no trees, and it being a cloudy morning neither party would have any advantage from the light. The two cases of pistols were then examined. They were of the same calibre and about the same weight, and Marshall’s second at once agreed to Captain Lister’s proposal that each should fire with his own pistol, so that neither should be placed at the disadvantage of using a weapon that he was unaccustomed to. Captain Lister proposed that they should toss which of the two seconds should fire the signal, but Rankin said, “I would rather not do it, Captain Lister. I need hardly tell you that I would give anything not to be here in my present capacity, and I would very much rather that a third party should fire it—either your major or the surgeon.”

  Lister went across to the major, who at once consented to give the signal. The pistols were then loaded, the ground measured, and the principals placed in position. The major took two pistols—one loaded with ball, the other with powder only, and then placed himself some ten paces on one side of the line of fire.

  “Now,” he said, “gentlemen, I shall say ‘Are you ready?’ and on receiving no answer shall fire; but mind I am determined that if either of you makes a move to turn, or raises his arm by as much as an inch from his side before he hears the shot I will shoot him down at once. Do you both understand that?”

  Both answered “Yes.”

  He waited a moment, and then said “Are you ready?” Then a second later he fired. Both the antagonists turned swiftly on their heels, their arms going up as they did so. Then the two shots rang out. They seemed almost simultaneous; but Captain Lister, whose eyes were fixed on Marshall, saw that his hand jerked in the act of firing, and that his ball must have flown high. At the same moment his pistol fell to the ground, and he staggered back a pace. Then, with an exclamation of fury, he caught his right hand in his left, and stood rocking himself in pain. His second and the surgeon ran up to him.

  “Are you hit, Marshall?” the former said.

  “Of course I am hit,” he said savagely. “You don’t suppose I should have dropped the pistol if I hadn’t been. I believe that young villain has carried off one of my fingers.”

  “I must protest against this language, Marshall,” Lieutenant Rankin said indignantly. “I am bound to bear testimony that your opponent has acted extremely well, and that his conduct has been that of an honourable gentleman.”

  At this moment Captain Marshall turned deadly pale and would have fallen had not Rankin and the doctor caught him, and lowered him gradually to the ground.

  “He will do no more shooting,” the surgeon said grimly, “the ball has carried off his trigger finger. Cut his coat-sleeve off, Rankin. Don’t you see he is bleeding a great deal? Lister, please bring me those bandages at once.”

  Captain Lister,—who had, as soon as he saw Marshall’s pistol fall, run up to Frank and grasped his hand warmly, saying, “Thank heaven, my dear lad, that it has turned out as you said it would. I congratulate you with all my heart,”—at o
nce ran to fetch the bandages, and they all gathered round the wounded man, Frank turning very white as he saw him lying insensible.

  “What is it, doctor? I aimed at his hand. I hope it has not done any serious damage, except there.” The latter was too busy to answer. “Bring the tourniquet,” he said to Rankin, and as he ran off he looked up at the major.

  “The ball evidently struck the first finger on the knuckle, and went in between the first and middle finger and then ran up the wrist and along the arm, and has gone out, as you see above the elbow, cutting an artery as it went, and smashing the bone just above the elbow. The first thing is to stop the bleeding.”

  He took the tourniquet from Rankin, and applied it two or three inches above the elbow, and continued to screw until the rush of blood ceased. Then he bandaged the arm and hand and fastened it across Marshall’s chest. “That is all I can do now,” he said. “I think there is no doubt I shall have to amputate above the elbow; but we will take him back first. I wish we had a stretcher.”

  “We have a stretcher,” the major said. “I told off four men with one half an hour before we started. I thought we should want it to bring Wyatt back.” He put a whistle to his lips and blew loudly. A minute later four troopers ran out from behind a cottage a hundred yards away. They had, no doubt, been furtively observing the combat, for there was an expression of gladness and triumph on their faces as they arrived.

  “Lay Captain Marshall on the stretcher,” the surgeon said. “Lift him carefully and carry him to his quarters. I will drive on at once and get things ready. I suppose, Mr. Rankin, you will go with him. You had better cover him up with a rug. Have either of you any brandy? I forgot to bring any with me.”