Jack Hinton: The Guardsman. Lever Charles James

and hat-boxes drove past me. I had just time to catch a glimpse of De Vere’s face as the light fell suddenly upon it; I turned as quickly as possible, and gave chase down Barrack Street. We flew, he leading, and I endeavouring to keep up; but my poor hack was so done up, between waiting at the club and the sharp drive, that I found we couldn’t keep up the pace. Fortunately, however, a string of coal-cars blocked up Essex Bridge, upon which my friend came to a check, and I also. I jumped out immediately, and running forward, just got up in the nick, as they were once more about to move forward, “Ah, Dudley,” cried I, “I ‘ve had a sharp run for it, but by good fortune have found you at last” I wish you had seen his face as I said these words; he leaned forward in the carriage, so as completely to prevent Watson, who was with him, overhearing what passed?

      “May I ask,” said he, endeavouring to get up a little of his habitual coolness; “may I ask, what so very pressing has sent you in pursuit of me?”

      ‘“Nothing which should cause your present uneasiness,” replied I, in a tone and a look he could not mistake.

      ‘“Eh – aw! don’t take you exactly; anything gone wrong?”

      ‘“You ‘ve a capital memory, my lord, when it suits you; pray call it to your aid for a few moments, and it will save us both a deal of trouble. My business with you is on the part of Mr. Hinton, and I have to request you will, at once, refer me to a friend.”

      ‘“Eh! you want to fight? Is that it? I say, Watson, they want to make a quarrel out of that foolish affair I told you of.”

      ‘“Is Major Watson your friend on this occasion, my lord?”

      ‘“No; oh no; that is, I didn’t say – I told Watson how they walked into me for three hundred at Rooney’s. Must confess I deserved it richly for dining among such a set of fellows; and, as I have paid the money and cut the whole concern, I don’t see what more’s expected of me.”

      ‘“We have very little expectation, my lord, but a slight hope, that you’ll not disgrace the cloth you wear and the profession you follow.”

      ‘“I say, Watson, do you think I ought to take notice of these words?”

      ‘“Would your lordship like them stronger?”

      ‘“One moment, if you please, Captain O’Grady,” said Major Watson, as, opening the door of the chaise, he sprang out. “Lord Dudley de Vere has detailed to me, and of course correctly, the whole of his last night’s proceedings. He has expressed himself as ready and anxious to apologise to your friend for any offence he may have given him – in fact, that their families are in some way connected, and any falling out would be a very unhappy thing between them; and, last of all, Lord Dudley has resigned his appointment as aide-de-camp, and resolved on leaving Ireland; in two hours more he will sail from this. So I trust, that under every circumstance, you will see the propriety of not pressing the affair any further.”

      ‘“With the apology – ”

      ‘“That» of course,” said Watson.

      ‘“I say,” cried Herbert, “we shall be late at the Pigeon-house; it’s half-past seven.”

      ‘Watson whispered a few words into his ear; he was silent for a second, and a slight crimson flush settled on his cheek.

      “‘It won’t do for me if they talk of this afterwards; but tell him – I mean Hinton – that I am sorry; that is, I wish him to forgive – ”

      ‘“There, there,” said I impatiently, “drive on! that is quite enough!”

      ‘The next moment the chaise was out of sight, and I leaned against the balustrade of the bridge, with a sick feeling at my heart I never felt before. Vaughan came by at the moment with his tandem, so I made him turn about and set me down; and here I am, my boy, now that my qualmishness has passed off, ready to eat you out of house and home, if the means would only present themselves.’

      Here ended O’Gradys narrative, and as breakfast very shortly after made its appearance, our conversation dropped into broken, disjointed sentences; the burden of which, on his part, was that, although no man would deserve more gratitude from the household and the garrison generally than myself for being the means of exporting Lord De Vere, yet that under every view of the case all effort should be made to prevent publicity, and stop the current of scandal such an event was calculated to give rise to in the city.

      ‘No fear of that, I hope,’ said I.

      ‘Every fear, my dear boy. We live in a village here: every man hears his friend’s watch tick, and every lady knows what her neighbour paid for her paste diamonds. However, be comforted! your reputation will scarcely stretch across the Channel; and one’s notoriety must have strong claims before it pass the custom-house at Liverpool.’

      ‘Well, that is something; but hang it, O’Grady, I wish I had had a shot at him.’

      ‘Of course you do: nothing more natural, and at the same time, if you care for the lady, nothing more mal à propos. Do what you will, her name will be mixed up in the matter; but had it gone further she must have been deeply compromised between you. You are too young, Jack, to understand much of this; but take my word for it – fight about your sister, your aunt, your maternal grandmother, if you like, but never for the girl you are about to marry. It involves a false position to both her and yourself. And now that I am giving advice, just give me another cutlet. I say, Corny, any hot potatoes?’

      ‘Thim was hot awhile ago,’ said Corny, without taking his hands from his pockets.

      ‘Well, it is pleasant to know even that. Put that pistol-case back again. Ah! there goes Vaughan; I want a word with him.’

      So saying, he sprang up, and hastened downstairs.

      ‘What did he say I was to do with the pistols?’ said Corny, as he polished the case with the ample cuff of his coat.

      ‘You are to put them by: we shan’t want them this morning.’

      ‘And there is to be no devil after all,’ said he with a most fiendish grin. ‘Ugh, ugh! didn’t I know it? Ye’s come from the wrong side of the water for that. It’s little powder ye blaze, for all your talking.’

      Taking out one of the pistols as he spoke, he examined the lock for a few minutes patiently, and then muttered to himself: ‘Wasn’t I right to put in the ould flints? The devil a more ye ‘d he doing I guessed nor making a flash in the pan!’

      It was rather difficult, even with every allowance for Mr. Delany’s temper, to submit to his insolence patiently. After all, there was nothing better to be done; for Corny was even greater in reply than attack, and any rejoinder on my part would unquestionably have made me fare the worse. Endeavouring, therefore, to hum a tune, I strolled to the window and looked out; while the imperturbable Corny, opening the opposite sash, squibbed off both pistols previous to replacing them in the box.

      I cannot say what it was in the gesture and the action of this little fiend; but somehow the air of absurdity thus thrown over our quarrel by this ludicrous termination hurt me deeply; and Corny’s face as he snapped the trigger was a direct insult. All my self-respect, all my self-approval gave way in a moment, and I could think of nothing but cross Corny’s commentary on my courage.

      ‘Yes,’ said I, half aloud, ‘it is a confounded country! If for nothing else, that every class and condition of man thinks himself capable to pronounce upon his neighbour. Hard drink and duelling are the national pénates; and Heaven help him who does not adopt the religion of the land! My English servant would as soon have thought of criticising a chorus of Euripides as my conduct; and yet this little wretch not only does so, but does it to my face, superadding a sneer upon my country!’