A change, however, was at hand—a change of a most startling and
alarming character to Varney—one which he might expect, yet not be well
prepared for.
This period of serenity was to pass away, and he was to become most
alarmingly popular. We will not, however, anticipate, but proceed at
once to detail as briefly as may be the hostile meeting.
It would appear that Varney, now that he had once consented to the
definitive arrangements of a duel, shrunk not in any way from carrying
them out, nor in the slightest attempted to retard arrangements which
might be fatal to himself.
The early morning was one of those cloudy ones so frequently occurring
in our fickle climate, when the cleverest weather prophet would find it
difficult to predict what the next hour might produce.
There was a kind of dim gloominess over all objects; and as there were
no bright lights, there were no deep shadows—the consequence of which
was a sureness of effect over the landscape, that robbed it of many of
its usual beauties.
Such was the state of things when Marchdale accompanied Henry and
Admiral Bell from Bannerworth Hall across the garden in the direction
of the hilly wood, close to which was the spot intended for the scene
of encounter.
Jack Pringle came on at a lazy pace behind with his hands in his
pockets, and looking as unconcerned as if he had just come out for a
morning’s stroll, and scarcely knew whether he saw what was going on or
not.
The curious contortion into which he twisted his countenance, and the
different odd-looking lumps that appeared in it from time to time,
may be accounted for by a quid of unusual size, which he seemed to
be masticating with a relish quite horrifying to one unused to so
barbarous a luxury.
The admiral had strictly enjoined him not to interfere on pain of
being considered a lubber and no seaman for the remainder of his
existence—threatened penalties which, of course, had their own weight
with Jack, and accordingly he came just to see the row in as quiet a
way as possible, perhaps not without a hope, that something might turn
up in the shape of a _causus belli_, that might justify him in adopting
a threatening attitude towards somebody.
“Now, Master Henry,” said the admiral, “none of your palaver to me as
we go along, recollect I don’t belong to your party, you know. I’ve
stood friend to two or three fellows in my time; but if anybody had
said to me, ‘Admiral Bell, the next time you go out on a quiet little
shooting party, it will be as second to a vampyre,’ I’d have said
‘you’re a liar’ Howsomever, d—me, here you goes, and what I mean to
say is this, Mr Henry, that I’d second even a Frenchman rather than he
shouldn’t fight when he’s asked.”
“That’s liberal of you,” said Henry, “at all events.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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