Complete Works of Bram Stoker (524 page)

“Well, well, never mind that; Charles Holland is a young man just entering into life. He loves a girl who is, I think, every way worthy of him.”

“Oh, what a felicitous prospect!”

“Just hear me out, if you please.”

“With pleasure, sir  —  with pleasure.”

“Well, then, when a young, hot-headed fellow thinks he has a good ground of quarrel with anybody, you will not be surprised at his wanting to fight it out.”

“Not at all.”

“Well, then, to come to the point, my nephew, Charles Holland, has a fancy for fighting with you.”

“Ah!”

“You take it d  —    —  d easy.”

“My dear sir, why should I be uneasy? He is not my nephew, you know. I shall have no particular cause, beyond those feelings of common compassion which I hope inhabit my breast as well as every one else’s.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why, he is a young man just, as you say, entering into life, and I cannot help thinking it would be a pity to cut him off like a flower in the bud, so very soon.”

“Oh, you make quite sure, then, of settling him, do you?”

“My dear sir, only consider; he might be very troublesome, indeed; you know young men are hot-headed and troublesome. Even if I were only to maim him, he might be a continual and never-ceasing annoyance to me. I think I should be absolutely, in a manner of speaking, compelled to cut him off.”

“The devil you do!”

“As you say, sir.”

“D  —  n your assurance, Mr. Vampyre, or whatever odd fish you may be.”

“Admiral Bell, I never called upon you and received a courteous reception, and then insulted you.”

“Then why do you talk of cutting off a better man than yourself? D  —  n it, what would you say to him cutting you off?”

“Oh, as for me, my good sir, that’s quite another thing. Cutting me off is very doubtful.”

Sir Francis Varney gave a strange smile as he spoke, and shook his head, as if some most extraordinary and extravagant proposition had been mooted, which it was scarcely worth the while of anybody possessed of common sense to set about expecting.

Admiral Bell felt strongly inclined to get into a rage, but he repressed the idea as much as he could, although, but for the curious faint green light that came through the blinds, his heightened colour would have sufficiently proclaimed what state of mind he was in.

“Mr. Varney,” he said, “all this is quite beside the question; but, at all events, if it have any weight at all, it ought to have a considerable influence in deciding you to accept of what terms I propose.”

“What are they, sir?”

“Why, that you permit me to espouse my nephew Charles’s quarrel, and meet you instead of him.”

“You meet me?”

“Yes; I’ve met a better man more than once before. It can make no difference to you.”

“I don’t know that, Admiral Bell. One generally likes, in a duel, to face him with whom one has had the misunderstanding, be it on what grounds it may.”

“There’s some reason, I know, in what you say; but, surely, if I am willing, you need not object.”

“And is your nephew willing thus to shift the danger and the job of resenting his own quarrels on to your shoulders?”

“No; he knows nothing about it. He has written you a challenge, of which I am the bearer, but I voluntarily, and of my own accord, wish to meet you instead.”

“This is a strange mode of proceeding.”

“If you will not accede to it, and fight him first, and any harm comes to him, you shall fight me afterwards.”

“Indeed.”

“Yes, indeed you shall, however surprised you may look.”

“As this appears to be quite a family affair, then,” said Sir Francis Varney, “it certainly does appear immaterial which of you I fight with first.”

“Quite so; now you take a sensible view of the question. Will you meet me?”

“I have no particular objection. Have you settled all your affairs, and made your will?”

“What’s that to you?”

“Oh, I only asked, because there is generally so much food for litigation if a man dies intestate, and is worth any money.”

“You make devilish sure,” said the admiral, “of being the victor. Have you made your will?”

“Oh, my will,” smiled Sir Francis; “that, my good sir, is quite an indifferent affair.”

“Well, make it or not, as you like. I am old, I know, but I can pull a trigger as well as any one.”

“Do what?”

“Pull a trigger.”

“Why, you don’t suppose I resort to any such barbarous modes of fighting?”

“Barbarous! Why, how do you fight then?”

“As a gentleman, with my sword.”

“Swords! Oh, nonsense! nobody fights with swords now-a-days. That’s all exploded.”

“I cling to the customs and the fashions of my youth,” said Varney. “I have been, years ago, accustomed always to wear a sword, and to be without one now vexes me.”

“Pray, how many years ago?”

“I am older than I look, but that is not the question. I am willing to meet you with swords if you like. You are no doubt aware that, as the challenged party, I am entitled to the choice of weapons.”

“I am.”

“Then you cannot object to my availing myself of the one in the use of which I am perfectly unequalled.”

“Indeed.”

“Yes, I am, I think, the first swordsman in Europe; I have had immense practice.”

“Well, sir, you have certainly made a most unexpected choice of weapons. I can use a sword still, but am by no means a master of fencing. However, it shall not be said that I went back from my word, and let the chances be as desperate as they may, I will meet you.”

“Very good.”

“With swords?”

“Ay, with swords; but I must have everything properly arranged, so that no blame can rest on me, you know. As you will be killed, you are safe from all consequences, but I shall be in a very different position; so, if you please, I must have this meeting got up in such a manner as shall enable me to prove, to whoever may question me on the subject, that you had fair play.”

“Oh, never fear that.”

“But I do fear it. The world, my good sir, is censorious, and you cannot stop people from saying extremely ill-natured things.”

“What do you require, then?”

“I require you to send me a friend with a formal challenge.”

“Well?”

“Then I shall refer him to a friend of mine, and they two must settle everything between them.”

“Is that all?”

“Not quite. I will have a surgeon on the ground, in case, when I pink you, there should be a chance of saving your life. It always looks humane.”

“When you pink me?”

“Precisely.”

“Upon my word, you take these affairs easy. I suppose you have had a few of them?”

“Oh, a good number. People like yourself worry me into them, I don’t like the trouble, I assure you; it is no amusement to me. I would rather, by a great deal, make some concession than fight, because I will fight with swords, and the result is then so certain that there is no danger in the matter to me.”

“Hark you, Sir Francis Varney. You are either a very clever actor, or a man, as you say, of such skill with your sword, that you can make sure of the result of a duel. You know, therefore, that it is not fair play on your part to fight a duel with that weapon.”

“Oh, I beg your pardon there. I never challenge anybody, and when foolish people will call me out, contrary to my inclination, I think I am bound to take what care of myself I can.”

“D  —  n me, there’s some reason in that, too,” said the admiral; “but why do you insult people?”

“People insult me first.”

“Oh, nonsense!”

“How should you like to be called a vampyre, and stared at as if you were some hideous natural phenomenon?”

“Well, but  —  ”

“I say, Admiral Bell, how should you like it? I am a harmless country gentleman, and because, in the heated imaginations of some member of a crack-brained family, some housebreaker has been converted into a vampyre, I am to be pitched upon as the man, and insulted and persecuted accordingly.”

“But you forget the proofs.”

“What proofs?”

“The portrait, for one.”

“What! Because there is an accidental likeness between me and an old picture, am I to be set down as a vampyre? Why, when I was in Austria last, I saw an old portrait of a celebrated court fool, and you so strongly resemble it, that I was quite struck when I first saw you with the likeness; but I was not so unpolite as to tell you that I considered you were the court fool turned vampyre.”

“D  —  n your assurance!”

“And d  —  n yours, if you come to that.”

The admiral was fairly beaten. Sir Francis Varney was by far too long-headed and witty for him. After now in vain endeavouring to find something to say, the old man buttoned up his coat in a great passion, and looking fiercely at Varney, he said,  —  ”I don’t pretend to a gift of the gab. D  —  n me, it ain’t one of my peculiarities; but though you may talk me down, you sha’n’t keep me down.”

“Very good, sir.”

“It is not very good. You shall hear from me.”

“I am willing.”

“I don’t care whether you are willing or not. You shall find that when once I begin to tackle an enemy, I don’t so easily leave him. One or both of us, sir, is sure to sink.”

“Agreed.”

“So say I. You shall find that I’m a tar for all weathers, and if you were a hundred and fifty vampires all rolled into one, I’d tackle you somehow.”

The admiral walked to the door in high dudgeon; when he was near to it, Varney said, in some of his most winning and gentle accents,  — 

“Will you not take some refreshment, sir before you go from my humble house?”

“No!” roared the admiral.

“Something cooling?”

“No!”

“Very good, sir. A hospitable host can do no more than offer to entertain his guests.”

Admiral Bell turned at the door, and said, with some degree of intense bitterness,

“You look rather poorly. I suppose, to-night, you will go and suck somebody’s blood, you shark  —  you confounded vampyre! You ought to be made to swallow a red-hot brick, and then let dance about till it digests.”

Varney smiled as he rang the bell, and said to a servant,  — 

“Show my very excellent friend Admiral Bell out. He will not take any refreshments.”

The servant bowed, and preceded the admiral down the staircase; but, to his great surprise, instead of a compliment in the shape of a shilling or half-a-crown for his pains, he received a tremendous kick behind, with a request to go and take it to his master, with his compliments.

The fume that the old admiral was in beggars all description. He walked to Bannerworth Hall at such a rapid pace, that Jack Pringle had the greatest difficulty in the world to keep up with him, so as to be at all within speaking distance.

“Hilloa, Jack,” cried the old man, when they were close to the Hall. “Did you see me kick that fellow?”

“Ay, ay, sir.”

“Well, that’s some consolation, at any rate, if somebody saw it. It ought to have been his master, that’s all I can say to it, and I wish it had.”

“How have you settled it, sir?”

“Settled what?”

“The fight, sir.”

“D  —  n me, Jack, I haven’t settled it at all.”

“That’s bad, sir.”

“I know it is; but it shall be settled for all that, I can tell him, let him vapour as much as he may about pinking me, and one thing and another.”

“Pinking you, sir?”

“Yes. He wants to fight with cutlasses, or toasting-forks, d  —  n me, I don’t know exactly which, and then he must have a surgeon on the ground, for fear when he pinks me I shouldn’t slip my cable in a regular way, and he should be blamed.”

Jack gave a long whistle, as he replied,  — 

“Going to do it, sir?”

“I don’t know now what I’m going to do. Mind, Jack, mum is the word.”

“Ay, ay, sir.”

“I’ll turn the matter over in my mind, and then decide upon what had best be done. If he pinks me, I’ll take d  —    —  d good care he don’t pink Charles.”

“No, sir, don’t let him do that. A
wamphigher
, sir, ain’t no good opponent to anybody. I never seed one afore, but it strikes me as the best way to settle him, would be to shut him up in some little bit of a cabin, and then smoke him with brimstone, sir.”

“Well, well, I’ll consider, Jack, I’ll consider. Something must be done, and that quickly too. Zounds, here’s Charles  —  what the deuce shall I say to him, by way of an excuse, I wonder, for not arranging his affair with Varney? Hang me, if I ain’t taken aback now, and don’t know where to place a hand.”

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE LETTER TO CHARLES.  —  THE QUARREL.  —  THE ADMIRAL’S NARRATIVE.  —  THE MIDNIGHT MEETING.

It was Charles Holland who now advanced hurriedly to meet the admiral. The young man’s manner was anxious. He was evidently most intent upon knowing what answer could be sent by Sir Francis Varney to his challenge.

“Uncle,” he said, “tell me at once, will he meet me? You can talk of particulars afterwards, but now tell me at once if he will meet me?”

“Why, as to that,” said the admiral, with a great deal of fidgetty hesitation, “you see, I can’t exactly say.”

“Not say!”

“No. He’s a very odd fish. Don’t you think he’s a very odd fish, Jack Pringle’?”

“Ay, ay, sir.”

“There, you hear, Charles, that Jack is of my opinion that your opponent is an odd fish.”

“But, uncle, why trifle with my impatience thus? Have you seen Sir Francis Varney?”

“Seen him. Oh, yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“Why, to tell the truth, my lad, I advise you not to fight with him at all.”

“Uncle, is this like you? This advice from you, to compromise my honour, after sending a man a challenge?”

“D  —  n it all, Jack, I don’t know how to get out of it,” said the admiral. “I tell you what it is, Charles, he wants to fight with swords; and what on earth is the use of your engaging with a fellow who has been practising at his weapon for more than a hundred years?”

“Well, uncle, if any one had told me that you would be terrified by this Sir Francis Varney into advising me not to fight, I should have had no hesitation whatever in saying such a thing was impossible.”