Fishers -- Fiction; Scotland -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
“What I mean is, you must not be so overpoweringly gentleman-like as you
are apt to be; no gentleman is so gentleman as all that; it could not be
borne, _c'est suffoquant;_ and a white handkerchief is unsoldier-like,
and nobody ties a white handkerchief so well as that; of all the vices,
perfection is the most intolerable.” His lordship then touched with his
cane the generalissimo's tie, whose countenance straightway fell, as
though he had lost three successive battles.
Gatty came up.
They saluted.
“Where is your second, sir?” said the mare'chal.
“My second?” said Gatty. “Ah! I forgot to wake him--does it matter?”
“It is merely a custom,” said Lord Ipsden, with a very slightly
satirical manner. “Savanadero,” said he, “do us the honor to measure the
ground, and be everybody's second.”
Savanadero measured the ground, and handed a pistol to each combatant,
and struck an imposing attitude apart.
“Are you ready, gentlemen?” said this Jack-o'-both-sides.
“Yes!” said both.
Just as the signal was about to be given, an interruption occurred. “I
beg your pardon, sir,” said Lord Ipsden to his antagonist; “I am going
to take a _liberty--a great liberty_ with you, but I think you will find
your pistol is only at half cock.”
“Thank you, my lord; what am I to do with the thing?”
“Draw back the cock so, and be ready to fire?”
“So?” _Bang!_
He had touched the trigger as well as the cock, so off went the barker;
and after a considerable pause the field-marshal sprang yelling into the
air.
“Hallo!” cried Mr. Gatty.
“Ah! oh! I'm a dead man,” whined the general.
“Nonsense!” said Ipsden, after a moment of anxiety. “Give yourself no
concern, sir,” said he, soothingly, to his antagonist--“a mere accident.
Mare'chal, reload Mr. Gatty's pistol.”
“Excuse me, my lord--”
“Load his pistol directly,” said his lordship, sternly; “and behave like
a gentleman.”
“My lord! my lord! but where shall I stand to be safe?”
“Behind me!”
The commander of division advanced reluctantly for Gatty's pistol.
“No, my lord!” said Gatty, “it is plain I am not a fit antagonist; I
shall but expose myself--and my mother has separated us; I have lost
her--if you do not win her some worse man may; but, oh! if you are a
man, use her tenderly.”
“Whom?”
“Christie Johnstone! Oh, sir, do not make her regret me too much! She
was my treasure, my consolation--she was to be my wife, she would have
cheered the road of life--it is a desert now. I loved her--I--I--”
Here the poor fellow choked.
Lord Ipsden turned round, and threw his pistol to Saunders, saying,
“Catch that, Saunders.”
Saunders, on the contrary, by a single motion changed his person from
a vertical straight line to a horizontal line exactly parallel with the
earth's surface, and the weapon sang innoxious over him.
His lordship then, with a noble defiance of etiquette, walked up to his
antagonist and gave him his hand, with a motion no one could resist; for
he felt for the poor fellow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account