Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- 18th century -- Fiction; Irish -- England -- Fiction
CHAPTER VIII
As the door closed upon Forister, Colonel Royale beat his hand
passionately against the wall. "O'Ruddy," he cried, "if you could
severely maim that cold-blooded bully, I would be willing to adopt you
as my legitimate grandfather. I would indeed."
"Never fear me," said I. "I shall pink him well."
"Aye," said my friend, looking at me mournfully, "I ever feared your
Irish light-heartedness. 'Twill not do to be confident. He is an evil
man, but a great swordsman. Now I never liked Ponsonby, and Stewart
was the most lovable of men; but in the great duel Ponsonby killed--"
"No," I interrupted, "damn the duel between Ponsonby and Stewart. I'm
sick of it. This is to be the duel between The O'Ruddy and Forister,
and it won't be like the other."
"Eh, well," said the Colonel good-naturedly; "make your mind easy. But
I hope to God you lay him flat."
"After I have finished with him," said I in measured tones, "he will
be willing to sell himself as a sailor to go to the Indies; only, poor
devil, he won't be able to walk, which is always a drawback after a
hard fight, since it leaves one man incapable on the ground and thus
discloses strong evidence of a struggle."
I could see that Colonel Royale had no admiration for my bragging air,
but how otherwise was I to keep up my spirits? With all my
discouragements it seemed to me that I was privileged to do a little
fine lying. Had my father been in my place, he would have lied
Forister into such a corner that the man would be thinking that he had
the devil for an opponent. My father knew more about such matters.
Still I could not help but be thinking how misfortunate it was that I
had kicked a great swordsman out of this inn at Bristol when he might
have been a harmless shoemaker if I had only decent luck. I must make
the best of it, and for this my only method was to talk loudly,--to
myself, if need be; to others if I could. I was not the kind that is
quite unable to say a good word for itself even if I was not able to
lie as well as my father in his prime. In his day he could lie the
coat off a man's back, or the patches off a lady's cheek, and he could
lie a good dog into howling ominously. Still it was my duty to lie as
well as I was able.
After a time Lord Strepp was announced and entered. Both he and
Colonel Royale immediately stiffened and decided not to perceive each
other. "Sir," said Lord Strepp to me, "I have the honour to present my
compliments to you, and to request that you join a friend of mine, Mr.
Forister, at dawn to-morrow, in the settlement of a certain small
misunderstanding."
"Sir," said I, in the same manner, "I am only too happy to have this
little matter adjusted."
"And of course the arrangements, sir?"
"For them I may refer you to my friend Colonel Royale."
"Ah," said the young Lord, as if he had never before seen the Colonel.
"I am at your service, sir," said Colonel Royale as if he never in his
whole life had heard of Lord Strepp.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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