Chapter 50

Involves a serious Catastrophe.

　　The little race-course at Hampton was in the full tide andheight of its gaiety; the day as dazzling as day could be; thesun high in the cloudless sky, and shining in its fullestsplendour. Every gaudy colour that fluttered in the air fromcarriage seat and garish tent top, shone out in its gaudiest hues.

　　Old dingy flags grew new again, faded gilding was re-burnished,stained rotten canvas looked a snowy white, the very beggars’ ragswere freshened up, and sentiment quite forgot its charity in itsfervent admiration of poverty so picturesque.

　　It was one of those scenes of life and animation, caught in itsvery brightest and freshest moments, which can scarcely fail toplease; for if the eye be tired of show and glare, or the ear beweary with a ceaseless round of noise, the one may repose, turnalmost where it will, on eager, happy, and expectant faces, and theother deaden all consciousness of more annoying sounds in thoseof mirth and exhilaration. Even the sunburnt faces of gypsychildren, half naked though they be, suggest a drop of comfort. Itis a pleasant thing to see that the sun has been there; to know thatthe air and light are on them every day; to feel that they arechildren, and lead children’s lives; that if their pillows be damp, itis with the dews of Heaven, and not with tears; that the limbs oftheir girls are free, and that they are not crippled by distortions,imposing an unnatural and horrible penance upon their sex; thattheir lives are spent, from day to day, at least among the waving trees, and not in the midst of dreadful engines which make youngchildren old before they know what childhood is, and give themthe exhaustion and infirmity of age, without, like age, the privilegeto die. God send that old nursery tales were true, and that gypsiesstole such children by the score!

　　The great race of the day had just been run; and the close linesof people, on either side of the course, suddenly breaking up andpouring into it, imparted a new liveliness to the scene, which wasagain all busy movement. Some hurried eagerly to catch a glimpseof the winning horse; others darted to and fro, searching, no lesseagerly, for the carriages they had left in quest of better stations.

　　Here, a little knot gathered round a pea and thimble table to watchthe plucking of some unhappy greenhorn; and there, anotherproprietor with his confederates in various disguises—one man inspectacles; another, with an eyeglass and a stylish hat; a third,dressed as a farmer well to do in the world, with his top-coat overhis arm and his flash notes in a large leathern pocket-book; and allwith heavy-handled whips to represent most innocent countryfellows who had trotted there on horseback—sought, by loud andnoisy talk and pretended play, to entrap some unwary customer,while the gentlemen confederates (of more villainous aspect still,in clean linen and good clothes), betrayed their close interest inthe concern by the anxious furtive glance they cast on all newcomers. These would be hanging on the outskirts of a wide circleof people assembled round some itinerant juggler, opposed, in histurn, by a noisy band of music, or the classic game of ‘Ring theBull,’ while ventriloquists holding dialogues with wooden dolls,and fortune-telling women smothering the cries of real babies,divided with them, and many more, the general attention of the company. Drinking-tents were full, glasses began to clink incarriages, hampers to be unpacked, tempting provisions to be setforth, knives and forks to rattle, champagne corks to fly, eyes tobrighten that were not dull before, and pickpockets to count theirgains during the last heat. The attention so recently strained onone object of interest, was now divided among a hundred; and lookwhere you would, there was a motley assemblage of feasting,laughing, talking, begging, gambling, and mummery.

　　Of the gambling-booths there was a plentiful show, flourishingin all the splendour of carpeted ground, striped hangings, crimsoncloth, pinnacled roofs, geranium pots, and livery servants. Therewere the Stranger’s club-house, the Athenaeum club-house, theHampton club-house, the St James’s club-house, and half a mile ofclub-houses to play in; and there were rouge-et-noir, Frenchhazard, and other games to play at. It is into one of these boothsthat our story takes its way.

　　Fitted up with three tables for the purposes of play, andcrowded with players and lookers on, it was, although the largestplace of the kind upon the course, intensely hot, notwithstandingthat a portion of the canvas roof was rolled back to admit more air,and there were two doors for a free passage in and out. Exceptingone or two men who, each with a long roll of half-crowns,chequered with a few stray sovereigns, in his left hand, stakedtheir money at every roll of the ball with a business-likesedateness which showed that they were used to it, and had beenplaying all day, and most probably all the day before, there was novery distinctive character about the players, who were chieflyyoung men, apparently attracted by curiosity, or staking smallsums as part of the amusement of the day, with no very great interest in winning or losing. There were two persons present,however, who, as peculiarly good specimens of a class, deserve apassing notice. Of these, one was a man of six or eight and fifty,who sat on a chair near one of the entrances of the booth, with hishands folded on the top of his stick, and his chin appearing abovethem. He was a tall, fat, long-bodied man, buttoned up to thethroat in a light green coat, which made his body look still longerthan it was. He wore, besides, drab breeches and gaiters, a whiteneckerchief, and a broad-brimmed white hat. Amid all the buzzingnoise of the games, and the perpetual passing in and out of thepeople, he seemed perfectly calm and abstracted, without thesmallest particle of excitement in his composition. He exhibited noindication of weariness, nor, to a casual observer, of interesteither. There he sat, quite still and collected. Sometimes, but veryrarely, he nodded to some passing face, or beckoned to a waiter toobey a call from one of the tables. The next instant he subsidedinto his old state. He might have been some profoundly deaf oldgentleman, who had come in to take a rest, or he might have beenpatiently waiting for a friend, without the least consciousness ofanybody’s presence, or fixed in a trance, or under the influence ofopium. People turned round and looked at him; he made nogesture, caught nobody’s eye, let them pass away, and others comeon and be succeeded by others, and took no notice. When he didmove, it seemed wonderful how he could have seen anything tooccasion it. And so, in truth, it was. But there was not a face thatpassed in or out, which this man failed to see; not a gesture at anyone of the three tables that was lost upon him; not a word, spokenby the bankers, but reached his ear; not a winner or loser he couldnot have marked. And he was the proprietor of the place.

　　 The other presided over the rouge-et-noir table. He wasprobably some ten years younger, and was a plump, paunchy,sturdy-looking fellow, with his under-lip a little pursed, from ahabit of counting money inwardly as he paid it, but with nodecidedly bad expression in his face, which was rather an honestand jolly one than otherwise. He wore no coat, the weather beinghot, and stood behind the table with a huge mound of crowns andhalf-crowns before him, and a cash-box for notes. This game wasconstantly playing. Perhaps twenty people would be staking at thesame time. This man had to roll the ball, to watch the stakes asthey were laid down, to gather them off the colour which lost, topay those who won, to do it all with the utmost dispatch, to roll theball again, and to keep this game perpetually alive. He did it allwith a rapidity absolutely marvellous; never hesitating, nevermaking a mistake, never stopping, and never ceasing to repeatsuch unconnected phrases as the following, which, partly fromhabit, and partly to have something appropriate and business-liketo say, he constantly poured out with the same monotonousemphasis, and in nearly the same order, all day long:

　　‘Rooge-a-nore from Paris! Gentlemen, make your game andback your own opinions—any time while the ball rolls—rooge-anore from Paris, gentlemen, it’s a French game, gentlemen, Ibrought it over myself, I did indeed!—Rooge-a-nore from Paris—black wins—black—stop a minute, sir, and I’ll pay you, directly—two there, half a pound there, three there—and one there—gentlemen, the ball’s a rolling—any time, sir, while the ball rolls!—The beauty of this game is, that you can double your stakes or putdown your money, gentlemen, any time while the ball rolls—blackagain—black wins—I never saw such a thing—I never did, in all my life, upon my word I never did; if any gentleman had beenbacking the black in the last five minutes he must have won five-and-forty pound in four rolls of the ball, he must indeed.

　　Gentlemen, we’ve port, sherry, cigars, and most excellentchampagne. Here, wai-ter, bring a bottle of champagne, and let’shave a dozen or fifteen cigars here—and let’s be comfortable,gentlemen—and bring some clean glasses—any time while the ballrolls!—I lost one hundred and thirty-seven pound yesterday,gentlemen, at one roll of the ball, I did indeed!—how do you do,sir?’ (recognising some knowing gentleman without any halt orchange of voice, and giving a wink so slight that it seems anaccident), ‘will you take a glass of sherry, sir?—here, wai-ter! bringa clean glass, and hand the sherry to this gentleman—and hand itround, will you, waiter?—this is the rooge-a-nore from Paris,gentlemen—any time while the ball rolls!—gentlemen, make yourgame, and back your own opinions—it’s the rooge-a-nore fromParis—quite a new game, I brought it over myself, I did indeed—gentlemen, the ball’s a-rolling!’

　　This officer was busily plying his vocation when half-a-dozenpersons sauntered through the booth, to whom, but withoutstopping either in his speech or work, he bowed respectfully; atthe same time directing, by a look, the attention of a man besidehim to the tallest figure in the group, in recognition of whom theproprietor pulled off his hat. This was Sir Mulberry Hawk, withwhom were his friend and pupil, and a small train of gentlemanly-dressed men, of characters more doubtful than obscure.

　　The proprietor, in a low voice, bade Sir Mulberry good-day. SirMulberry, in the same tone, bade the proprietor go to the devil,and turned to speak with his friends.

　　 There was evidently an irritable consciousness about him thathe was an object of curiosity, on this first occasion of showinghimself in public after the accident that had befallen him; and itwas easy to perceive that he appeared on the race-course, thatday, more in the hope of meeting with a great many people whoknew him, and so getting over as much as possible of theannoyance at once, than with any purpose of enjoying the sport.

　　There yet remained a slight scar upon his face, and whenever hewas recognised, as he was almost every minute by peoplesauntering in and out, he made a restless effort to conceal it withhis glove; showing how keenly he felt the disgrace he hadundergone.

　　‘Ah! Hawk,’ said one very sprucely-dressed personage in aNewmarket coat, a choice neckerchief, and all other accessories ofthe most unexceptionable kind. ‘How d’ye do, old fellow?’

　　This was a rival trainer of young noblemen and gentlemen, andthe person of all others whom Sir Mulberry most hated anddreaded to meet. They shook hands with excessive cordiality.

　　‘And how are you now, old fellow, hey?’

　　‘Quite well, quite well,’ said Sir Mulberry.

　　‘That’s right,’ said the other. ‘How d’ye do, Verisopht? He’s alittle pulled down, our friend here. Rather out of condition still,hey?’

　　It should be observed that the gentleman had very white teeth,and that when there was no excuse for laughing, he generallyfinished with the same monosyllable, which he uttered so as todisplay them.

　　‘He’s in very good condition; there’s nothing the matter withhim,’ said the young man carelessly.

　　 ‘Upon my soul I’m glad to hear it,’ rejoined the other. ‘Have youjust returned from Brussels?’

　　‘We only reached town late last night,’ said Lord Frederick. SirMulberry turned away to speak to one of his own party, andfeigned not to hear.

　　‘Now, upon my life,’ said the friend, affecting to speak in awhisper, ‘it’s an uncommonly bold and game thing in Hawk toshow himself so soon. I say it advisedly; there’s a vast deal ofcourage in it. You see he has just rusticated long enough to excitecuriosity, and not long enough for men to have forgotten thatdeuced unpleasant—by-the-bye—you know the rights of the affair,of course? Why did you never give those confounded papers thelie? I seldom read the papers, but I looked in the papers for that,and may I be—’

　　‘Look in the papers,’ interrupted Sir Mulberry, turningsuddenly round, ‘tomorrow—no, next day, will you?’

　　‘Upon my life, my dear fellow, I seldom or never read thepapers,’ said the other, shrugging his shoulders, ‘but I will, at yourrecommendation. What shall I look for?’

　　‘Good day,’ said Sir Mulberry, turning abruptly on his heel, anddrawing his pupil with him. Falling, again, into the loitering,careless pace at which they had entered, they lounged out, arm inarm.

　　‘I won’t give him a case of murder to read,’ muttered SirMulberry with an oath; ‘but it shall be something very near it ifwhipcord cuts and bludgeons bruise.’

　　His companion said nothing, but there was something in hismanner which galled Sir Mulberry to add, with nearly as muchferocity as if his friend had been Nicholas himself:

　　 ‘I sent Jenkins to old Nickleby before eight o’clock thismorning. He’s a staunch one; he was back with me before themessenger. I had it all from him in the first five minutes. I knowwhere this hound is to be met with; time and place both. Butthere’s no need to talk; tomorrow will soon be here.’

　　‘And wha-at’s to be done tomorrow?’ inquired Lord Frederick.

　　Sir Mulberry Hawk honoured him with an angry glance, butcondescended to return no verbal answer to this inquiry. Bothwalked sullenly on, as though their thoughts were busily occupied,until they were quite clear of the crowd, and almost alone, whenSir Mulberry wheeled round to return.

　　‘Stop,’ said his companion, ‘I want to speak to you in earnest.

　　Don’t turn back. Let us walk here, a few minutes.’

　　‘What have you to say to me, that you could not say yonder aswell as here?’ returned his Mentor, disengaging his arm.

　　‘Hawk,’ rejoined the other, ‘tell me; I must know.’

　　‘MUST know,’ interrupted the other disdainfully. ‘Whew! Goon. If you must know, of course there’s no escape for me. Mustknow!’

　　‘Must ask then,’ returned Lord Frederick, ‘and must press youfor a plain and straightforward answer. Is what you have just saidonly a mere whim of the moment, occasioned by your being out ofhumour and irritated, or is it your serious intention, and one thatyou have actually contemplated?’

　　‘Why, don’t you remember what passed on the subject onenight, when I was laid up with a broken limb?’ said Sir Mulberry,with a sneer.

　　‘Perfectly well.’

　　‘Then take that for an answer, in the devil’s name,’ replied Sir Mulberry, ‘and ask me for no other.’

　　Such was the ascendancy he had acquired over his dupe, andsuch the latter’s general habit of submission, that, for the moment,the young man seemed half afraid to pursue the subject. He soonovercame this feeling, however, if it had restrained him at all, andretorted angrily:

　　‘If I remember what passed at the time you speak of, Iexpressed a strong opinion on this subject, and said that, with myknowledge or consent, you never should do what you threatennow.’

　　‘Will you prevent me?’ asked Sir Mulberry, with a laugh.

　　‘Ye-es, if I can,’ returned the other, promptly.

　　‘A very proper saving clause, that last,’ said Sir Mulberry; ‘andone you stand in need of. Oh! look to your own business, and leaveme to look to mine.’

　　‘This is mine,’ retorted Lord Frederick. ‘I make it mine; I willmake it mine. It’s mine already. I am more compromised than Ishould be, as it is.’

　　‘Do as you please, and what you please, for yourself,’ said SirMulberry, affecting an easy good-humour. ‘Surely that mustcontent you! Do nothing for me; that’s all. I advise no man tointerfere in proceedings that I choose to take. I am sure you knowme better than to do so. The fact is, I see, you mean to offer meadvice. It is well meant, I have no doubt, but I reject it. Now, if youplease, we will return to the carriage. I find no entertainment here,but quite the reverse. If we prolong this conversation, we mightquarrel, which would be no proof of wisdom in either you or me.’

　　With this rejoinder, and waiting for no further discussion, SirMulberry Hawk yawned, and very leisurely turned back.

　　 There was not a little tact and knowledge of the young lord’sdisposition in this mode of treating him. Sir Mulberry clearly sawthat if his dominion were to last, it must be established now. Heknew that the moment he became violent, the young man wouldbecome violent too. He had, many times, been enabled tostrengthen his influence, when any circumstance had occurred toweaken it, by adopting this cool and laconic style; and he trustedto it now, with very little doubt of its entire success.

　　But while he did this, and wore the most careless andindifferent deportment that his practised arts enabled him toassume, he inwardly resolved, not only to visit all the mortificationof being compelled to suppress his feelings, with additionalseverity upon Nicholas, but also to make the young lord pay dearlyfor it, one day, in some shape or other. So long as he had been apassive instrument in his hands, Sir Mulberry had regarded himwith no other feeling than contempt; but, now that he presumed toavow opinions in opposition to his, and even to turn upon himwith a lofty tone and an air of superiority, he began to hate him.

　　Conscious that, in the vilest and most worthless sense of the term,he was dependent upon the weak young lord, Sir Mulberry couldthe less brook humiliation at his hands; and when he began todislike him he measured his dislike—as men often do—by theextent of the injuries he had inflicted upon its object. When it isremembered that Sir Mulberry Hawk had plundered, duped,deceived, and fooled his pupil in every possible way, it will not bewondered at, that, beginning to hate him, he began to hate himcordially.

　　On the other hand, the young lord having thought—which hevery seldom did about anything—and seriously too, upon the affair with Nicholas, and the circumstances which led to it, had arrivedat a manly and honest conclusion. Sir Mulberry’s coarse andinsulting behaviour on the occasion in question had produced adeep impression on his mind; a strong suspicion of his having ledhim on to pursue Miss Nickleby for purposes of his own, had beenlurking there for some time; he was really ashamed of his share inthe transaction, and deeply mortified by the misgiving that he hadbeen gulled. He had had sufficient leisure to reflect upon thesethings, during their late retirement; and, at times, when hiscareless and indolent nature would permit, had availed himself ofthe opportunity. Slight circumstances, too, had occurred toincrease his suspicion. It wanted but a very slight circumstance tokindle his wrath against Sir Mulberry. This his disdainful andinsolent tone in their recent conversation (the only one they hadheld upon the subject since the period to which Sir Mulberryreferred), effected.

　　Thus they rejoined their friends: each with causes of dislikeagainst the other rankling in his breast: and the young manhaunted, besides, with thoughts of the vindictive retaliation whichwas threatened against Nicholas, and the determination toprevent it by some strong step, if possible. But this was not all. SirMulberry, conceiving that he had silenced him effectually, couldnot suppress his triumph, or forbear from following up what heconceived to be his advantage. Mr Pyke was there, and Mr Pluckwas there, and Colonel Chowser, and other gentlemen of the samecaste, and it was a great point for Sir Mulberry to show them thathe had not lost his influence. At first, the young lord contentedhimself with a silent determination to take measures forwithdrawing himself from the connection immediately. By degrees, he grew more angry, and was exasperated by jests andfamiliarities which, a few hours before, would have been a sourceof amusement to him. This did not serve him; for, at suchbantering or retort as suited the company, he was no match for SirMulberry. Still, no violent rupture took place. They returned totown; Messrs Pyke and Pluck and other gentlemen frequentlyprotesting, on the way thither, that Sir Mulberry had never beenin such tiptop spirits in all his life.

　　They dined together, sumptuously. The wine flowed freely, asindeed it had done all day. Sir Mulberry drank to recompensehimself for his recent abstinence; the young lord, to drown hisindignation; and the remainder of the party, because the wine wasof the best and they had nothing to pay. It was nearly midnightwhen they rushed out, wild, burning with wine, their bloodboiling, and their brains on fire, to the gaming-table.

　　Here, they encountered another party, mad like themselves.

　　The excitement of play, hot rooms, and glaring lights was notcalculated to allay the fever of the time. In that giddy whirl of noiseand confusion, the men were delirious. Who thought of money,ruin, or the morrow, in the savage intoxication of the moment?

　　More wine was called for, glass after glass was drained, theirparched and scalding mouths were cracked with thirst. Downpoured the wine like oil on blazing fire. And still the riot went on.

　　The debauchery gained its height; glasses were dashed upon thefloor by hands that could not carry them to lips; oaths wereshouted out by lips which could scarcely form the words to ventthem in; drunken losers cursed and roared; some mounted on thetables, waving bottles above their heads and bidding defiance tothe rest; some danced, some sang, some tore the cards and raved.

　　 Tumult and frenzy reigned supreme; when a noise arose thatdrowned all others, and two men, seizing each other by the throat,struggled into the middle of the room.

　　A dozen voices, until now unheard, called aloud to part them.

　　Those who had kept themselves cool, to win, and who earned theirliving in such scenes, threw themselves upon the combatants, and,forcing them asunder, dragged them some space apart.

　　‘Let me go!’ cried Sir Mulberry, in a thick hoarse voice; ‘hestruck me! Do you hear? I say, he struck me. Have I a friend here?

　　Who is this? Westwood. Do you hear me say he struck me?’

　　‘I hear, I hear,’ replied one of those who held him. ‘Come awayfor tonight!’

　　‘I will not, by G—,’ he replied. ‘A dozen men about us saw theblow.’

　　‘Tomorrow will be ample time,’ said the friend.

　　‘It will not be ample time!’ cried Sir Mulberry. ‘Tonight, at once,here!’ His passion was so great, that he could not articulate, butstood clenching his fist, tearing his hair, and stamping upon theground.

　　‘What is this, my lord?’ said one of those who surrounded him.

　　‘Have blows passed?’

　　‘One blow has,’ was the panting reply. ‘I struck him. I proclaimit to all here! I struck him, and he knows why. I say, with him, letthis quarrel be adjusted now. Captain Adams,’ said the young lord,looking hurriedly about him, and addressing one of those who hadinterposed, ‘let me speak with you, I beg.’

　　The person addressed stepped forward, and taking the youngman’s arm, they retired together, followed shortly afterwards bySir Mulberry and his friend.

　　 It was a profligate haunt of the worst repute, and not a place inwhich such an affair was likely to awaken any sympathy for eitherparty, or to call forth any further remonstrance or interposition.

　　Elsewhere, its further progress would have been instantlyprevented, and time allowed for sober and cool reflection; but notthere. Disturbed in their orgies, the party broke up; some reeledaway with looks of tipsy gravity; others withdrew noisilydiscussing what had just occurred; the gentlemen of honour wholived upon their winnings remarked to each other, as they wentout, that Hawk was a good shot; and those who had been mostnoisy, fell fast asleep upon the sofas, and thought no more about it.

　　Meanwhile, the two seconds, as they may be called now, after along conference, each with his principal, met together in anotherroom. Both utterly heartless, both men upon town, boththoroughly initiated in its worst vices, both deeply in debt, bothfallen from some higher estate, both addicted to every depravityfor which society can find some genteel name and plead its mostdepraving conventionalities as an excuse, they were naturallygentlemen of most unblemished honour themselves, and of greatnicety concerning the honour of other people.

　　These two gentlemen were unusually cheerful just now; for theaffair was pretty certain to make some noise, and could scarcelyfail to enhance their reputations.

　　‘This is an awkward affair, Adams,’ said Mr Westwood, drawinghimself up.

　　‘Very,’ returned the captain; ‘a blow has been struck, and thereis but one course, OF course.’

　　‘No apology, I suppose?’ said Mr Westwood.

　　‘Not a syllable, sir, from my man, if we talk till doomsday,’

　　 returned the captain. ‘The original cause of dispute, I understand,was some girl or other, to whom your principal applied certainterms, which Lord Frederick, defending the girl, repelled. But thisled to a long recrimination upon a great many sore subjects,charges, and counter-charges. Sir Mulberry was sarcastic; LordFrederick was excited, and struck him in the heat of provocation,and under circumstances of great aggravation. That blow, unlessthere is a full retraction on the part of Sir Mulberry, LordFrederick is ready to justify.’

　　‘There is no more to be said,’ returned the other, ‘but to settlethe hour and the place of meeting. It’s a responsibility; but there isa strong feeling to have it over. Do you object to say at sunrise?’

　　‘Sharp work,’ replied the captain, referring to his watch;‘however, as this seems to have been a long time breeding, andnegotiation is only a waste of words, no.’

　　‘Something may possibly be said, out of doors, after whatpassed in the other room, which renders it desirable that weshould be off without delay, and quite clear of town,’ said MrWestwood. ‘What do you say to one of the meadows oppositeTwickenham, by the river-side?’

　　The captain saw no objection.

　　‘Shall we join company in the avenue of trees which leads fromPetersham to Ham House, and settle the exact spot when wearrive there?’ said Mr Westwood.

　　To this the captain also assented. After a few otherpreliminaries, equally brief, and having settled the road each partyshould take to avoid suspicion, they separated.

　　‘We shall just have comfortable time, my lord,’ said the captain,when he had communicated the arrangements, ‘to call at my rooms for a case of pistols, and then jog coolly down. If you willallow me to dismiss your servant, we’ll take my cab; for yours,perhaps, might be recognised.’

　　What a contrast, when they reached the street, to the scene theyhad just left! It was already daybreak. For the flaring yellow lightwithin, was substituted the clear, bright, glorious morning; for ahot, close atmosphere, tainted with the smell of expiring lamps,and reeking with the steams of riot and dissipation, the free, fresh,wholesome air. But to the fevered head on which that cool airblew, it seemed to come laden with remorse for time misspent andcountless opportunities neglected. With throbbing veins andburning skin, eyes wild and heavy, thoughts hurried anddisordered, he felt as though the light were a reproach, andshrunk involuntarily from the day as if he were some foul andhideous thing.

　　‘Shivering?’ said the captain. ‘You are cold.’

　　‘Rather.’

　　‘It does strike cool, coming out of those hot rooms. Wrap thatcloak about you. So, so; now we’re off.’

　　They rattled through the quiet streets, made their call at thecaptain’s lodgings, cleared the town, and emerged upon the openroad, without hindrance or molestation.

　　Fields, trees, gardens, hedges, everything looked very beautiful;the young man scarcely seemed to have noticed them before,though he had passed the same objects a thousand times. Therewas a peace and serenity upon them all, strangely at variance withthe bewilderment and confusion of his own half-sobered thoughts,and yet impressive and welcome. He had no fear upon his mind;but, as he looked about him, he had less anger; and though all old delusions, relative to his worthless late companion, were nowcleared away, he rather wished he had never known him thanthought of its having come to this.

　　The past night, the day before, and many other days and nightsbeside, all mingled themselves up in one unintelligible andsenseless whirl; he could not separate the transactions of one timefrom those of another. Now, the noise of the wheels resolved itselfinto some wild tune in which he could recognise scraps of airs heknew; now, there was nothing in his ears but a stunning andbewildering sound, like rushing water. But his companion ralliedhim on being so silent, and they talked and laughed boisterously.

　　When they stopped, he was a little surprised to find himself in theact of smoking; but, on reflection, he remembered when andwhere he had taken the cigar.

　　They stopped at the avenue gate and alighted, leaving thecarriage to the care of the servant, who was a smart fellow, andnearly as well accustomed to such proceedings as his master. SirMulberry and his friend were already there. All four walked inprofound silence up the aisle of stately elm trees, which, meetingfar above their heads, formed a long green perspective of Gothicarches, terminating, like some old ruin, in the open sky.

　　After a pause, and a brief conference between the seconds,they, at length, turned to the right, and taking a track across alittle meadow, passed Ham House and came into some fieldsbeyond. In one of these, they stopped. The ground was measured,some usual forms gone through, the two principals were placedfront to front at the distance agreed upon, and Sir Mulberryturned his face towards his young adversary for the first time. Hewas very pale, his eyes were bloodshot, his dress disordered, and his hair dishevelled. For the face, it expressed nothing but violentand evil passions. He shaded his eyes with his hand; grazed at hisopponent, steadfastly, for a few moments; and, then taking theweapon which was tendered to him, bent his eyes upon that, andlooked up no more until the word was given, when he instantlyfired.

　　The two shots were fired, as nearly as possible, at the sameinstant. In that instant, the young lord turned his head sharplyround, fixed upon his adversary a ghastly stare, and without agroan or stagger, fell down dead.

　　‘He’s gone!’ cried Westwood, who, with the other second, hadrun up to the body, and fallen on one knee beside it.

　　‘His blood on his own head,’ said Sir Mulberry. ‘He brought thisupon himself, and forced it upon me.’

　　‘Captain Adams,’ cried Westwood, hastily, ‘I call you to witnessthat this was fairly done. Hawk, we have not a moment to lose. Wemust leave this place immediately, push for Brighton, and cross toFrance with all speed. This has been a bad business, and may beworse, if we delay a moment. Adams, consult your own safety, anddon’t remain here; the living before the dead; goodbye!’

　　With these words, he seized Sir Mulberry by the arm, andhurried him away. Captain Adams—only pausing to convincehimself, beyond all question, of the fatal result—sped off in thesame direction, to concert measures with his servant for removingthe body, and securing his own safety likewise.

　　So died Lord Frederick Verisopht, by the hand which he hadloaded with gifts, and clasped a thousand times; by the act of him,but for whom, and others like him, he might have lived a happyman, and died with children’s faces round his bed.

　　 The sun came proudly up in all his majesty, the noble river ranits winding course, the leaves quivered and rustled in the air, thebirds poured their cheerful songs from every tree, the short-livedbutterfly fluttered its little wings; all the light and life of day cameon; and, amidst it all, and pressing down the grass whose everyblade bore twenty tiny lives, lay the dead man, with his stark andrigid face turned upwards to the sky.