Guy Livingstone; or, 'Thorough'Lawrence, George A. (George Alfred)
General
Guy Livingstone; or, 'Thorough'
Lawrence, George A. (George Alfred)
Fiction
There was an end of lansquenet for that night. An ordinary quarrel would
have made little impression on those reckless spirits, who had, most of
them, at one time or another, "been out" themselves; but they felt that
what they had witnessed now was the prologue to a certain tragedy; there
was a savor of death in the air; so they dropped off one by one, leaving
Guy and Ralph alone; not before the latter had expressed, with much
politeness, "his desolation at having been compelled to interrupt a
_partie_, which he trusted was only deferred till the morrow."
Before long De Rosny returned. The preliminaries were soon arranged.
Pistols were necessarily to be the weapons, for Levinge had seldom
touched a foil; and, as the Frenchman said with a bow that made his
objection a compliment, "Colonel Mohun's reputation as a swordsman was
European." An early hour next morning was fixed for the _venue_, in the
Pre aux Clercs of the nineteenth century--the Bois de Boulogne.
When they were alone again Guy turned gravely to his companion. "It is a
bad business, I fear, though you could not have acted otherwise; but I
would rather your adversary were any other than Levinge. It is a
murderous, unscrupulous scoundrel as ever lived. He can shoot--that's
nothing; so can you, better than most men--but, mark me, Ralph, he has
been out twice, and hit his man each time, the last mortally; but on
neither occasion was _his fire returned_. Men say he has an awkward
knack of pulling the trigger half a second too soon. I don't know if
this is true, but I do know that Seymour, who seconded him at Florence
when he killed O'Neill, has been more than cool to him ever since."
"Faith, I can well believe it," Mohun answered, quietly, "and it is very
probable I may get hard hit to-morrow; but of killing him I feel morally
certain. Do you believe in presentiments? I do. Before that drunken
brute had half done speaking, I saw imminent death written in his face
as plainly as if I had possessed the Highland second-sight. I think I
could almost tell you how it will look _after my shot_. Well, we must
talk of business. My arrangements won't take me long. I have very little
to dispose of; it is almost all entailed property. I shall leave you the
choice of any thing among my goods and chattels. You will find some arms
that you may fancy. But if my pistols fail me to-morrow, so that Levinge
lives over it, do me the favor to throw them into the Seine; they
deserve nothing better. As for the ready-money I have with me, and some
more at my banker's--" he hesitated, and then went on in a gentler
voice, "I should like it to go to that poor child whom we met to-night.
If I live I will take care she is settled in England, where some one
will be kind to her. Her father was a good soldier and a true-hearted
gentleman. And, Guy, I am sorry that I sneered at you to-night; I hardly
meant it when I said it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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