The O'Ruddy: A Romance

by Stephen Crane

  CHAPTER XII

  My plans were formed quickly. "We now have a treasure chest of nosmall dimensions," said I, very complacent, naturally. "We can conquerLondon with this. Everything is before us. I have already establishedmyself as the grandest swordsman in the whole continent of England.Lately we have gained much treasure. And also I have the papers.Paddy, do you take care of this poor horse. Then follow me into Bath.Jem Bottles, do you mount and ride around the town, for I fear yourballadists. Meet me on the London road. Ride slowly on the highway toLondon, and in due time I will overtake you. I shall pocket a few ofthose guineas, but you yourself shall be the main treasury. Hold! whatof Paddy's hair? Did he rob the Earl with that great flame showing? Hedare not appear in Bath."

  "'Tis small tribute to my wit, sir," answered Jem Bottles. "I would assoon go poaching in company with a lighthouse as to call a stand onthe road with him uncovered. I tied him in cloth until he looked nomore like himself than he now does look like a parson."

  "Aye," said Paddy in some bad humour, "my head was tied in a bag. Mymother would not have known me from a pig going to market. And I wouldnot be for liking it every day. My hair is what the blessed Saintssent me, and I see no such fine hair around me that people are free tothrow the laugh at me."

  "Peace!" said I.

  Their horses were tied in an adjacent thicket. I sent Paddy off withmy lame mount, giving him full instructions as to his lies. I and JemBottles took the other horses and rode toward Bath.

  Where a certain lane turned off from the highway I parted with JemBottles, and he rode away between the hedges. I cantered into Bath.

  The best-known inn was ablaze with fleeting lights, and people wereshouting within. It was some time before I could gain a man to lookafter my horse. Of him I demanded the reason of the disturbance. "TheEarl of Westport's carriage has been robbed on the Bristol road, sir,"he cried excitedly. "There be parties starting out. I pray they catchhim."

  "And who would they be catching, my lad," said I.

  "Jem Bottles, damn him, sir," answered the man. "But 'tis a fiercetime they will have, for he stands no less than eight feet in hisboots, and his eyes are no human eyes, but burn blood-red always. Hishands are adrip with blood, and 'tis said that he eats human flesh,sir. He surely is a devil, sir."

  "From the description I would be willing to believe it," said I."However, he will be easy to mark. Such a monster can hardly bemistaken for an honest man."

  I entered the inn, while a boy staggered under my valises. I haddifficulty in finding the landlord. But in the corridor were a numberof travellers, and evidently one had come that day from Bristol, forhe suddenly nudged another and hurriedly whispered:

  "'Tis him! The great Irish swordsman!"

  Then the news spread like the wind, apparently, that the man who hadbeaten the great Forister was arrived in good health at the inn. Therewere murmurs, and a great deal of attention, and many eyes. I suddenlycaught myself swaggering somewhat. It is hard to be a famous personand not show a great swollen chicken-breast to the people. They aredisappointed if you do not strut and step high. "Show me to achamber," said I splendidly. The servants bowed their foreheads to thefloor.

  But the great hubbub over the Earl's loss continued without abatement.Gentlemen clanked down in their spurs; there was much talk ofdragoons; the tumult was extraordinary. Upstairs the landlord led mepast the door of a kind of drawing-room. I glanced within and saw theEarl of Westport gesturing and declaiming to a company of gentlemen.He was propped up in a great arm-chair.

  "And why would he be waving his hands that way?" said I to twoservants who stood without.

  "His lordship has lost many valuable papers at the hands of amiscreant, sir," answered one.

  "Is it so?" said I. "Well, then, I would see his lordship."

  But here this valet stiffened. "No doubt but what his lordship wouldbe happy to see you, sir," he answered slowly. "Unfortunately,however, he has forbidden me to present strangers to his presence."

  "I have very important news. Do not be an idiot," said I. "Announceme. The O'Ruddy."

  "The O'Ruggy?" said he.

  "The O'Ruddy," said I.

  "The O'Rudgy?" said he.

  "No," said I, and I told him again. Finally he took two paces withinthe room and sung out in a loud voice:

  "The O'Rubby."

  I heard the voice of the sick old Earl calling out from his greatchair. "Why, 'tis the Irishman. Bid him enter. I am glad--I am alwaysvery glad--ahem!--"

  As I strode into the room I was aware of another buzz of talk.Apparently here, too, were plenty of people who knew me as the famousswordsman. The Earl moved his jaw and mumbled.

  "Aye," said he at last, "here is The O'Ruddy. And, do you know, Mr.O'Ruddy, I have been foully robbed, and, among other things, have lostyour worthless papers?"

  "I heard that you had lost them," I answered composedly. "But I refuseto take your word that they are worthless."

  Many people stared, and the Earl gave me a firm scowl. But afterconsideration he spoke as if he thought it well to dissemble a greatdislike of me. The many candles burned very brightly, and we could allsee each other. I thought it better to back casually toward the wall.

  "You never accomplish anything," coughed the sick Earl. "Yet you arefor ever prating of yourself. I wish my son were here. My papers aregone. I shall never recover them."

  "The papers are in the breast of my coat at this moment," said Icoolly.

  There was a great tumult. The Earl lost his head and cried:

  "Seize him!" Two or three young men took steps toward me. I was backto the wall, and in a leisurely and contemptuous way I drew my sword.

  "The first gentleman who advances is a dead man," said I pleasantly.

  Some drew away quickly; some hesitated, and then withdrew subtilely.In the mean time the screeches of the Earl mocked them all.

  "Aye, the wild Irishman brings you up to a stand, he does! Now whowill have at him? In all Bath I have no friend with a stout heart?"

  After looking them over I said:

  "No, my Lord, you have none."

  At this insult the aged peer arose from his chair. "Bring me mysword," he cried to his valet. A hush fell upon us all. We wererendered immovable by the solemn dignity of this proceeding.

  It was some time before I could find my tongue.

  "And if you design to cross blades with me, you will find me a sadrenegade," said I. "I am holding the papers for the hands of theirtrue owner."

  "And their true owner?" he demanded.

  "Lady Mary Strepp," said I.

  He sank back into his seat. "This Irishman's impudence is beyondmeasuring," he exclaimed. The hurrying valet arrived at that momentwith a sword. "Take it away! Take it away!" he cried. "Do I wishvalets to be handing swords to me at any time of the day or night?"

  Here a belligerent red-faced man disengaged himself abruptly from thegroup of gentlemen and addressed the Earl. "Westport," said he flatly,"I can ill bear your taunt concerning your Bath friends, and this isnot to speak of the insolence of the person yonder."

  "Oh, ho!" said I. "Well, and the person yonder remains serene in hisinsolence."

  The Earl, smiling slightly, regarded the new speaker.

  "Sir Edmund Flixton was ever a dainty swordsman, picking and choosinglike a lady in a flower-bed. Perchance he is anxious to fight thegentleman who has just given Reginald Forister something he will notforget?"

  At this Flixton actually turned pale and drew back. Evidently he hadnot yet heard the news. And, mind you, I could see that he would fightme the next moment. He would come up and be killed like a gentleman.But the name of a great conqueror had simply appalled him and smittenhim back.

  The Earl was gazing at me with an entirely new expression. He hadcleverly eliminated all dislike from his eyes. He covered me with afriendly regard.

  "O'Ruddy," he said softly, "I would have some private speech with you.Come into my chamber."

  The Earl leaned on the shoulder of
his valet and a little fat doctor,and walked painfully into another room. I followed, knowing that I wasnow to withstand a subtle, wheedling, gentle attempt to gain thepapers without the name of Lady Mary being mentioned.

  The Earl was slowly lowered into a great chair. After a gasp of reliefhe devoted a brightening attention to me. "You are not a bad fellow,O'Ruddy," he observed. "You remind me greatly of your father. Aye, hewas a rare dog, a rare dog!"

  "I've heard him say so, many is the day, sir," I answered.

  "Aye, a rare dog!" chuckled the old man. "I have in my memory somebrisk pictures of your father with his ready tongue, hiswhat-the-devil-does-it-matter-sir, and that extraordinaryswordsmanship which you seem to have inherited."

  "My father told me you were great friends in France," I answeredcivilly, "but from some words you let drop in Bristol I judged that hewas mistaken."

  "Tut," said the Earl. "You are not out of temper with me, are you,O'Ruddy?"

  "With me happily in possession of the papers," I rejoined, "I am ingood temper with everybody. 'Tis not for me to lose my good naturewhen I hold all the cards."

  The Earl's mouth quickly dropped to a sour expression, but almost asquickly he put on a pleasant smile. "Aye," he said, nodding his sickhead. "Always jovial, always jovial. Precisely like his father. Infact it brings back an old affection."

  "If the old affection had been brought back a little earlier, sir,"said I, "we all would have had less bother. 'Twas you who in thebeginning drew a long face and set a square chin over the business. Iam now in the mood to be rather airy."

  Our glances blazed across each other.

  "But," said the Earl in the gentlest of voices, "you have my papers,O'Ruddy, papers entrusted to you by your dying father to give into thehands of his old comrade. Would you betray such a sacred trust? Couldyou wanton yourself to the base practices of mere thievery?"

  "'Tis not I who has betrayed any trust," I cried boldly. "I broughtthe papers and wished to offer them. They arrived in your possession,and you cried 'Straw, straw!' Did you not?"

  "'Twas an expedient, O'Ruddy," said the Earl.

  "There is more than one expedient in the world," said I. "I am nowusing the expedient of keeping the papers."

  And in the glance which he gave me I saw that I had been admittedbehind a certain barrier. He was angry, but he would never moreattempt to overbear me with grand threats. And he would never moreattempt to undermine me with cheap flattery. We had measured oneagainst the other, and he had not come away thinking out of hisproportion. After a time he said:

  "What do you propose to do, Mr. O'Ruddy?"

  I could not help but grin at him. "I propose nothing," said I. "I amnot a man for meaning two things when I say one."

  "You've said one thing, I suppose?" he said slowly.

  "I have," said I.

  "And the one thing?" said he.

  "Your memory is as good as mine," said I.

  He mused deeply and at great length. "You have the papers?" he askedfinally.

  "I still have them," said I.

  "Then," he cried with sudden vehemence, "why didn't you read thepapers and find out the truth?"

  I almost ran away.

  "Your--your lordship," I stammered, "I thought perhaps in London--inLondon perhaps--I might get a--I would try to get a tutor."