“Final separation!” he repeated, with an incredulous laugh. “Nonsense. That is a regular climax to a love fever. They will be more devoted than ever in a week’s time. Tell her what I have just told you, and they will be friends in half an hour.”
“I fear not. Leonard has shown wonderful patience so far, but my father used to say ‘beware the anger of a patient man’; for when once his patience has given way, his anger is not to be pacified.”
“All foolishness, Carlita. Go and tell Sappha everything. I promised to meet St. Ange about three o’clock; you see I have not any time to spare now.”
“I do not know what Annette said to Sappha--something ill-natured, no doubt; but I wonder St. Ange did not give her strict orders to keep her tongue quiet about this business.”
“You wonder St. Ange did not give Annette ‘strict orders.’ Well, Carlita, I wonder at your simplicity. Who can order a bad-tempered woman’s tongue? Tell Sappha I have gone with St. Ange to see Leonard. Doubtless I shall bring him home with me.”
He went out with this pleasant anticipation, and Mrs. Bloommaert arranged a little dinner for her daughter, and sent it upstairs to her. “You must eat, Sappha,” she said, “you can’t live on your tears. And I have good news for you--very good news. See now, how nice this roast chicken looks, and the beans, and the strawberry tart; and I made the tea myself; yes, dear, you must have a cup of tea, and you must first tell me all that Annette, the cruel ill-natured woman, said to you.”
This confidence helped Sappha wonderfully. She could rightly enough blame Annette, and there was relief in shifting so much of the reproach from herself. And Mrs. Bloommaert felt no scruple in throwing the whole weight of the unfortunate affair on Annette. “It would never have happened, never!” she said, “if Annette had been minding her house and her baby instead of following Achille round; and then because she could not find him she must come and vent her home-made wretchedness on you. I wish I had heard her! She called Leonard a coward, did she?”
“She said every respectable person thought him one, and she repeated many things about him getting enormous interest from the city--oh, mother, I cannot go over it again.”
“There is no need to do so. Leonard Murray has turned all such ideas topsy-turvy. Now I am going to tell you all about it, and you will see how well he has managed this miserable business. On Sunday he went to see Achille, and Achille told him he could forbear no longer, and though Leonard thought it was a kind of cowardice to fight a man so inferior in skill both with sword and pistol to himself, Achille convinced him there was no other way to prevent Gilson lying. So early on Monday morning Achille called upon Gilson. He first presented to him a paper acknowledging all his accusations against Leonard to be false and malicious, requiring him to sign it. But Gilson fell into a great passion, and said he would fight St. Ange for daring to offer him such an insult; and Achille answered, ‘it would give him a supreme pleasure to allow him an opportunity as soon as his friend, Mr. Murray, had received satisfaction.’ Then he gave him Leonard’s challenge. The fellow threw it carelessly down on the table, and said ‘he was going to Boston on important affairs, but when he returned he would make immediate arrangements to meet Mr. Murray and teach him to mind his own business.’ ‘On the contrary,’ said Achille, ‘you will meet Mr. Murray before you go to Boston. You will meet him to-morrow morning at half-past seven o’clock in Hahn’s wood, Hoboken. You know the place. Or if there is any other place you prefer, I am here to make arrangements.’ Gilson said, ‘one place was as good as another.’ Then they agreed that the weapons should be rapiers, and Gilson laughed scornfully, and ‘hoped the clearing at Hahn’s wood was not too large, for he intended close quarters. Murray,’ he said, ‘could not have half an acre to skip about in.’ To which fresh insult Achille answered that if Mr. Gilson wished close quarters he felt sure Mr. Murray would be delighted to fight on a billiard table.”
“I like Achille, mother, yes I do!”
“Achille is a good friend in need. He made all other arrangements for the duel, and Gilson promised that he and his friend Myron Hays would be on the ground at half-past seven the following morning. He used a deal of very bad language in making these arrangements. Your father said we could imagine it as bad as we chose, and that then it would come far short of the reality.”
“So there was a duel this morning! Oh, mother, if I had only known!”
“Do not hurry me, Sappha. I want to tell you all just as it happened. Leonard did not trust Gilson’s promise, nor did Achille. They determined to watch him; and they found out two things: first, that he intended leaving New York for Boston soon after seven; second, that he had ordered breakfast for himself and Myron Hays fifteen minutes before seven at the City Hotel.”
“But, mother, Gilson must have known that Leonard stayed at the City Hotel?”
“Of course he knew; but he felt sure Leonard would be crossing the river at that time. Then he would have taken his breakfast, sending the while repeated inquiries as to whether any one had seen Leonard or St. Ange, and affecting great indignation at their non-appearance. Finally some insolent message of future defiance and punishment would have been left with the proprietor for Leonard. Oh, can you not see through the foolish, cowardly plan?”
“It was a contemptible scheme, and full of weak points, mother,” answered Sappha.
“It would have answered well enough; it would, at least, have thrown doubt and contempt on both men. Fortunately Leonard and St. Ange followed Gilson so closely that they were at his side ere he had finished giving the order for serving his coffee. ‘At present,’ said St. Ange very politely, ‘there is not time for coffee. We will cross the river at once, sir,’ and Gilson answered, ‘I am going to Boston on most important business. Mr. Murray must have got my letter explaining.’ Then Leonard said, ‘You never wrote me any letter, sir. And you are not going to Boston, you are going to Hoboken, and that at once.’ Gilson still insisted that he would fight Leonard when he came back from Boston, and St. Ange told him he could have that satisfaction if he wished it; but first of all, he must fulfil his present engagement. ‘All is ready for it, he continued; ‘a boat waits for you and Mr. Hays at the foot of the garden, and another boat for Mr. Murray and myself will keep yours in sight.’ Then the man looked at his second, and Mr. Hays said it was proper to go at once, and he was thus morally, or unmorally, forced into compliance. At the last moment Gilson ‘supposed arms and a doctor had been remembered,’ and St. Ange told him those duties had been delegated to him and properly attended to. ‘The doctor,’ he said, ‘was in their boat, and the swords also,’ the latter having been approved by Mr. Hays on the previous day, at which time it was also agreed that Gilson should have his choice of the two weapons. St. Ange told your father there had been several irregularities, but that all had been arranged with perfect fairness by himself and Mr. Hays.”
At this juncture Sappha lost all control of her emotions and began to weep and lament; and her mother rather sharply continued: “Tears are not needed at all, Sappha. Leonard was perfectly calm. Of his own safety he had not a fear. He and St. Ange kept Gilson’s boat in sight until they landed; then the ground was marked off, and the men threw away their coats and vests and received their swords from the seconds. I cannot tell you just what happened, but your father could make it plain enough I dare say. To me it was only thrust and parry, touch and go, for a few minutes, then Leonard made a feint at Gilson’s breast, but by a movement instantaneous as a thought nailed his right foot to the ground with his rapier. The man shrieked, and would have seized Leonard’s sword, but that action was instantly prevented by the seconds. The affair was over. Gilson was at Leonard’s mercy, and when he withdrew his sword St. Ange said, ‘Doctor, the case is now yours. And then turning to Gilson he continued, ‘Mr. Gilson, if you cannot control your tongue in the future, we will do this as often as you like.’”
“I hope the man will not die, mother!”
“Oh, no! Leonard intended only to punish him. He will have a few weeks’ severe pain, and may have to use a crutch for a longer time--perhaps he may not dance any more; but he only received what he richly deserved.”
“But I do not see, mother, how this duel will put Leonard right in people’s estimation.”
“Oh, my dear, St. Ange took good care to secure witnesses to Gilson’s cowardly attempt to get away; and the men who rowed the two boats were there, to report for the newspapers. They heard much conversation I have not repeated. Your father also thinks Myron Hays, though he would not say much, was deceived and very indignant. You may be sure that St. Ange and Leonard arranged for a full vindication. Now, Sappha, wash your face and dress yourself prettily. Father said he would bring Leonard back to tea with him.”