Chapter 2

by William Makepeace Thackeray

　　I SHOW MYSELF TO BE A MAN OF SPIRIT.During this dispute, my cousin Nora did the only thing that a lady,under such circumstances, could do, and fainted in due form. I wasin hot altercation with Mick at the time, or I should have, ofcourse, flown to her assistance, but Captain Fagan (a dry sort offellow this Fagan was) prevented me, saying, 'I advise you to leavethe young lady to herself, Master Redmond, and be sure she will cometo.' And so indeed, after a while, she did, which has shown me sincethat Fagan knew the world pretty well, for many's the lady I've seenin after times recover in a similar manner. Quin did not offer tohelp her, you may be sure, for, in the midst of the diversion,caused by her screaming, the faithless bully stole away.'Which of us is Captain Quin to engage?' said I to Mick; for it wasmy first affair, and I was as proud of it as of a suit of lacedvelvet. 'Is it you or I, Cousin Mick, that is to have the honour ofchastising this insolent Englishman?' And I held out my hand as Ispoke, for my heart melted towards my cousin under the triumph ofthe moment.But he rejected the proffered offer of friendship. 'You--you!' saidhe, in a towering passion; 'hang you for a meddling brat: your handis in everybody's pie. What business had you to come brawling andquarrelling here, with a gentleman who has fifteen hundred a year?''Oh,' gasped Nora, from the stone bench, 'I shall die: I know Ishall. I shall never leave this spot.''The Captain's not gone yet,' whispered Fagan; on which Nora, givinghim an indignant look, jumped up and walked towards the house.'Meanwhile,' Mick continued, 'what business have you, you meddlingrascal, to interfere with a daughter of this house?''Rascal yourself!' roared I: 'call me another such name, Mick Brady,and I'll drive my hanger into your weasand. Recollect, I stood toyou when I was eleven years old. I'm your match now, and, by Jove,provoke me, and I'll beat you like--like your younger brother alwaysdid.' That was a home-cut, and I saw Mick turn blue with fury.'This is a pretty way to recommend yourself to the family,' saidFagan, in a soothing tone.'The girl's old enough to be his mother,' growled Mick.'Old or not,' I replied: 'you listen to this, Mick Brady' (and Iswore a tremendous oath, that need not be put down here): 'the manthat marries Nora Brady must first kill me--do you mind that?''Pooh, sir,' said Mick, turning away, 'kill you--flog you, you mean!I'll send for Nick the huntsman to do it;' and so he went off.Captain Fagan now came up, and taking me kindly by the hand, said Iwas a gallant lad, and he liked my spirit. 'But what Brady says istrue,' continued he; 'it's a hard thing to give a lad counsel who isin such a far-gone state as you; but, believe me, I know the world,and if you will but follow my advice, you won't regret having takenit. Nora Brady has not a penny; you are not a whit richer. You arebut fifteen, and she's four-and-twenty. In ten years, when you'reold enough to marry, she will be an old woman; and, my poor boy,don't you see--though it's a hard matter to see--that she's a flirt,and does not care a pin for you or Quin either?'But who in love (or in any other point, for the matter of that)listens to advice? I never did, and I told Captain Fagan fairly,that Nora might love me or not as she liked, but that Quin shouldfight me before he married her--that I swore.'Faith,' says Fagan, 'I think you are a lad that's likely to keepyour word;' and, looking hard at me for a second or two, he walkedaway likewise, humming a tune: and I saw he looked back at me as hewent through the old gate out of the garden. When he was gone, and Iwas quite alone, I flung myself down on the bench where Nora hadmade believe to faint, and had left her handkerchief; and, taking itup, hid my face in it, and burst into such a passion of tears as Iwould then have had nobody see for the world. The crumpled ribandwhich I had flung at Quin lay in the walk, and I sat there forhours, as wretched as any man in Ireland, I believe, for the timebeing. But it's a changeable world! When we consider how great oursorrows seem, and how small they are; how we think we shall die ofgrief, and how quickly we forget, I think we ought to be ashamed ofourselves and our fickle-heartedness. For, after all, what businesshas time to bring us consolation? I have not, perhaps, in the courseof my multifarious adventures and experience, hit upon the rightwoman; and have forgotten, after a little, every single creature Iadored; but I think, if I could but have lighted on the right one, Iwould have loved her for ever.I must have sat for some hours bemoaning myself on the garden bench,for it was morning when I came to Castle Brady, and the dinner-bellclanged as usual at three o'clock, which wakened me up from myreverie. Presently I gathered up the handkerchief, and once moretook the riband. As I passed through the offices, I saw theCaptain's saddle was still hanging up at the stable-door, and sawhis odious red-coated brute of a servant swaggering with thescullion-girls and kitchen-people. 'The Englishman's still there,Master Redmond,' said one of the maids to me (a sentimental black-eyed girl, who waited on the young ladies). 'He's there in theparlour, with the sweetest fillet of vale; go in, and don't let himbrowbeat you, Master Redmond.'And in I went, and took my place at the bottom of the big table, asusual, and my friend the butler speedily brought me a cover.'Hallo, Reddy my boy!' said my uncle, 'up and well?--that's right.''He'd better be home with his mother,' growled my aunt.'Don't mind her,' says Uncle Brady; 'it's the cold goose she ate atbreakfast didn't agree with her. Take a glass of spirits, Mrs.Brady, to Redmond's health.' It was evident he did not know of whathad happened; but Mick, who was at dinner too, and Ulick, and almostall the girls, looked exceedingly black, and the Captain foolish;and Miss Nora, who was again by his side, ready to cry. CaptainFagan sat smiling; and I looked on as cold as a stone. I thought thedinner would choke me: but I was determined to put a good face onit, and when the cloth was drawn, filled my glass with the rest; andwe drank the King and the Church, as gentlemen should. My uncle wasin high good-humour, and especially always joking with Nora and theCaptain. It was, 'Nora, divide that merry-thought with the Captain!see who'll be married first.' 'Jack Quin, my dear boy, never mind aclean glass for the claret, we're short of crystal at Castle Brady;take Nora's and the wine will taste none the worse;' and so on. Hewas in the highest glee,--I did not know why. Had there been areconciliation between the faithless girl and her lover since theyhad come into the house?I learned the truth very soon. At the third toast, it was always thecustom for the ladies to withdraw; but my uncle stopped them thistime, in spite of the remonstrances of Nora, who said, 'Oh, pa! dolet us go!' and said, 'No, Mrs. Brady and ladies, if you plaise;this is a sort of toast that is drunk a great dale too seldom in myfamily, and you'll plaise to receive it with all the honours. Here'sCaptain and Mrs. John Quin, and long life to them. Kiss her, Jack,you rogue: for 'faith you've got a treasure!''He has already '----I screeched out, springing up.'Hold your tongue, you fool--hold your tongue!' said big Ulick, whosat by me; but I wouldn't hear.'He has already,' I screamed, 'been slapped in the face thismorning, Captain John Quin; he's already been called coward, CaptainJohn Quin; and this is the way I'll drink his health. Here's yourhealth, Captain John Quin!' And I flung a glass of claret into hisface. I don't know how he looked after it, for the next moment Imyself was under the table, tripped up by Ulick, who hit me aviolent cuff on the head as I went down; and I had hardly leisure tohear the general screaming and skurrying that was taking place aboveme, being so fully occupied with kicks, and thumps, and curses, withwhich Ulick was belabouring me. 'You fool!' roared he--' you greatblundering marplot--you silly beggarly brat' (a thump at each),'hold your tongue!' These blows from Ulick, of course, I did notcare for, for he had always been my friend, and had been in thehabit of thrashing me all my life.When I got up from under the table all the ladies were gone; and Ihad the satisfaction of seeing the Captain's nose was bleeding, asmine was--his was cut across the bridge, and his beauty spoiled forever. Ulick shook himself, sat down quietly, filled a bumper, andpushed the bottle to me. 'There, you young donkey,' said he, 'supthat; and let's hear no more of your braying.''In Heaven's name, what does all the row mean?' says my uncle. 'Isthe boy in the fever again?''It's all your fault,' said Mick sulkily: 'yours and those whobrought him here.''Hold your noise, Mick!' says Ulick, turning on him; 'speak civil ofmy father and me, and don't let me be called upon to teach youmanners.''It is your fault,' repeated Mick. 'What business has the vagabondhere? If I had my will, I'd have him flogged and turned out.''And so he should be,' said Captain Quin.'You'd best not try it, Quin,' said Ulick, who was always mychampion; and turning to his father, 'The fact is, sir, that theyoung monkey has fallen in love with Nora, and finding her and theCaptain mighty sweet in the garden to-day, he was for murdering JackQuin.''Gad, he's beginning young,' said my uncle, quite good-humouredly.''Faith, Fagan, that boy's a Brady, every inch of him.''And I'll tell you what, Mr. B.,' cried Quin, bristling up: 'I'vebeen insulted grossly in this 'ouse. I ain't at all satisfied withthese here ways of going on. I'm an Englishman I am, and a man ofproperty; and I--I'--'If you're insulted, and not satisfied,remember there's two of us, Quin,' said Ulick gruffly. On which theCaptain fell to washing his nose in water, and answered never aword.'Mr. Quin,' said I, in the most dignified tone I could assume, 'mayalso have satisfaction any time he pleases, by calling on RedmondBarry, Esquire, of Barryville.' At which speech my uncle burst outa-laughing (as he did at everything); and in this laugh, CaptainFagan, much to my mortification, joined. I turned rather smartlyupon him, however, and bade him to understand that as for my cousinUlick, who had been my best friend through life, I could put up withrough treatment from him; yet, though I was a boy, even that sort oftreatment I would bear from him no longer; and any other person whoventured on the like would find me a man, to their cost. 'Mr. Quin,'I added, 'knows that fact very well; and if he's a man, he'll knowwhere to find me.'My uncle now observed that it was getting late, and that my motherwould be anxious about me. 'One of you had better go home with him,'said he, turning to his sons, 'or the lad may be playing morepranks.' But Ulick said, with a nod to his brother, 'Both of us ridehome with Quin here.''I'm not afraid of Freny's people,' said the Captain, with a faintattempt at a laugh; 'my man is armed, and so am I.''You know the use of arms very well, Quin,' said Ulick; 'and no onecan doubt your courage; but Mick and I will see you home for allthat.''Why, you'll not be home till morning, boys. Kilwangan's a good tenmile from here.''We'll sleep at Quin's quarters,' replied Ulick: 'we're going tostop a week there.''Thank you,' says Quin, very faint; 'it's very kind of you.''You'll be lonely, you know, without us.''Oh yes, very lonely!' says Quin.'And in another week, my boy,' says Ulick (and here he whisperedsomething in the Captain's ear, in which I thought I caught thewords 'marriage,' 'parson,' and felt all my fury returning again).'As you please,' whined out the Captain; and the horses werequickly brought round, and the three gentlemen rode away.Fagan stopped, and, at my uncle's injunction, walked across the oldtreeless park with me. He said that after the quarrel at dinner, hethought I would scarcely want to see the ladies that night, in whichopinion I concurred entirely; and so we went off without an adieu.'A pretty day's work of it you have made, Master Redmond,' said he.'What! you a friend to the Bradys, and knowing your uncle to bedistressed for money, try and break off a match which will bringfifteen hundred a year into the family? Quin has promised to pay offthe four thousand pounds which is bothering your uncle so. He takesa girl without a penny--a girl with no more beauty than yonderbullock. Well, well, don't look furious; let's say she is handsome--there's no accounting for tastes,--a girl that has been flingingherself at the head of every man in these parts these ten yearspast, and missing them all. And you, as poor as herself, a boy offifteen--well, sixteen, if you insist--and a boy who ought to beattached to your uncle as to your father'--'And so I am,' said I.'And this is the return you make him for his kindness! Didn't heharbour you in his house when you were an orphan, and hasn't hegiven you rent-free your fine mansion of Barryville yonder? And now,when his affairs can be put into order, and a chance offers for hisold age to be made comfortable, who flings himself in the way of himand competence?--You, of all others; the man in the world mostobliged to him. It's wicked, ungrateful, unnatural. From a lad ofsuch spirit as you are, I expect a truer courage.''I am not afraid of any man alive,' exclaimed I (for this latterpart of the Captain's argument had rather staggered me, and Iwished, of course, to turn it--as one always should when the enemy'stoo strong); 'and it's I am the injured man, Captain Fagan. No manwas ever, since the world began, treated so. Look here--look at thisriband. I've worn it in my heart for six months. I've had it thereall the time of the fever. Didn't Nora take it out of her own bosomand give it me? Didn't she kiss me when she gave it me, and call meher darling Redmond?''She was practicing,' replied Mr. Fagan, with a sneer. 'I knowwomen, sir. Give them time, and let nobody else come to the house,and they'll fall in love with a chimney-sweep. There was a younglady in Fermoy'--'A young lady in flames,' roared I (but I used a still hotter word).'Mark this; come what will of it, I swear I'll fight the man whopretends to the hand of Nora Brady. I'll follow him, if it's intothe church, and meet him there. I'll have his blood, or he shallhave mine; and this riband shall be found dyed in it. Yes, and if Ikill him, I'll pin it on his breast, and then she may go and takeback her token.' This I said because I was very much excited at thetime, and because I had not read novels and romantic plays fornothing.'Well,' says Fagan after a pause, 'if it must be, it must. For ayoung fellow, you are the most blood-thirsty I ever saw. Quin's adetermined fellow, too.''Will you take my message to him?' said I, quite eagerly.'Hush!' said Fagan: 'your mother may be on the look-out. Here weare, close to Barryville.''Mind! not a word to my mother,' I said; and went into the houseswelling with pride and exultation to think that I should have achance against the Englishman I hated so.Tim, my servant, had come up from Barryville on my mother's returnfrom church; for the good lady was rather alarmed at my absence, andanxious for my return. But he had seen me go in to dinner, at theinvitation of the sentimental lady's-maid; and when he had had hisown share of the good things in the kitchen, which was always betterfurnished than ours at home, had walked back again to inform hismistress where I was, and, no doubt, to tell her, in his ownfashion, of all the events that had happened at Castle Brady. Inspite of my precautions to secrecy, then, I half suspected that mymother knew all, from the manner in which she embraced me on myarrival, and received our guest, Captain Fagan. The poor soul lookeda little anxious and flushed, and every now and then gazed very hardin the Captain's face; but she said not a word about the quarrel,for she had a noble spirit, and would as lief have seen anyone ofher kindred hanged as shirking from the field of honour. What hasbecome of those gallant feelings nowadays? Sixty years ago a man wasa man, in old Ireland, and the sword that was worn by his side wasat the service of any gentleman's gizzard, upon the slightestdifference. But the good old times and usages are fast fading away.One scarcely every hears of a fair meeting now, and the use of thosecowardly pistols, in place of the honourable and manly weapon ofgentlemen, has introduced a deal of knavery into the practice ofduelling, that cannot be sufficiently deplored.When I arrived at home I felt that I was a man in earnest, andwelcoming Captain Fagan to Barryville, and introducing him to mymother, in a majestic and dignified way, said the Captain must bethirsty after his walk, and called upon Tim to bring up a bottle ofthe yellow-sealed Bordeaux, and cakes and glasses, immediately.Tim looked at the mistress in great wonderment: and the fact is,that six hours previous I would as soon have thought of burning thehouse down as calling for a bottle of claret on my own account; butI felt I was a man now, and had a right to command; and my motherfelt this too, for she turned to the fellow and said, sharply,'Don't you hear, you rascal, what your Master says! Go, get thewine, and the cakes and glasses, directly.' Then (for you may besure she did not give Tim the keys of our little cellar) she wentand got the liquor herself; and Tim brought it in, on the silvertray, in due form. My dear mother poured out the wine, and drank theCaptain welcome; but I observed her hand shook very much as sheperformed this courteous duty, and the bottle went clink, clink,against the glass. When she had tasted her glass, she said she had aheadache, and would go to bed; and so I asked her blessing, asbecomes a dutiful son--(the modern Bloods have given up therespectful ceremonies which distinguished a gentleman in my time)--and she left me and Captain Fagan to talk over our importantbusiness.'Indeed,' said the Captain,' I see now no other way out of thescrape than a meeting. The fact is, there was a talk of it at CastleBrady, after your attack upon Quin this afternoon, and he vowed thathe would cut you in pieces: but the tears and supplications of MissHonoria induced him, though very unwillingly, to relent. Now,however, matters have gone too far. No officer, bearing HisMajesty's commission, can receive a glass of wine on his nose--thisclaret of yours is very good, by the way, and by your leave we'llring for another bottle--without resenting the affront. Fight youmust; and Quin is a huge strong fellow.''He'll give the better mark,' said I. 'I am not afraid of him.''In faith,' said the Captain,' I believe you are not; for a lad, Inever saw more game in my life.''Look at that sword, sir,' says I, pointing to an elegant silver-mounted one, in a white shagreen case, that hung on the mantelpiece,under the picture of my father, Harry Barry. 'It was with thatsword, sir, that my father pinked Mohawk O'Driscol, in Dublin, inthe year 1740; with that sword, sir, he met Sir HuddlestoneFuddlestone, the Hampshire baronet, and ran him through the neck.They met on horseback, with sword and pistol, on Hounslow Heath, asI dare say you have heard tell of, and those are the pistols' (theyhung on each side of the picture) 'which the gallant Barry used. Hewas quite in the wrong, having insulted Lady Fuddlestone, when inliquor, at the Brentford assembly. But, like a gentleman, he scornedto apologise, and Sir Huddlestone received a ball through his hat,before they engaged with the sword. I am Harry Barry's son, sir, andwill act as becomes my name and my quality.''Give me a kiss, my dear boy,' said Fagan, with tears in his eyes.'You're after my own soul. As long as Jack Fagan lives you shallnever want a friend or a second.'Poor fellow! he was shot six months afterwards, carrying orders tomy Lord George Sackville, at Minden, and I lost thereby a kindfriend. But we don't know what is in store for us, and that nightwas a merry one at least. We had a second bottle, and a third too (Icould hear the poor mother going downstairs for each, but she nevercame into the parlour with them, and sent them in by the butler, Mr.Tim): and we parted at length, he engaging to arrange matters withMr. Quin's second that night, and to bring me news in the morning asto the place where the meeting should take place. I have oftenthought since, how different my fate might have been, had I notfallen in love with Nora at that early age; and had I not flung thewine in Quin's face, and so brought on the duel. I might havesettled down in Ireland but for that (for Miss Quinlan was anheiress, within twenty miles of us, and Peter Burke, of Kilwangan,left his daughter Judy L700 a year, and I might have had either ofthem, had I waited a few years). But it was in my fate to be awanderer, and that battle with Quin sent me on my travels at a veryearly age: as you shall hear anon.I never slept sounder in my life, though I woke a little earlierthan usual; and you may be sure my first thought was of the event ofthe day, for which I was fully prepared. I had ink and pen in myroom--had I not been writing those verses to Nora but the dayprevious, like a poor fond fool as I was? And now I sat down andwrote a couple of letters more: they might be the last, thought I,that I ever should write in my life. The first was to my mother:--'Honoured Madam',--I wrote--'This will not be given you unless I fallby the hand of Captain Quin, whom I meet this day in the field ofhonour, with sword and pistol. If I die, it is as a good Christianand a gentleman,--how should I be otherwise when educated by such amother as you? I forgive all my enemies--I beg your blessing as adutiful son. I desire that my mare Nora, which my uncle gave me, andwhich I called after the most faithless of her sex, may be returnedto Castle Brady, and beg you will give my silver-hiked hanger toPhil Purcell, the gamekeeper. Present my duty to my uncle and Ulick,and all the girls of my party there. And I remain your dutiful son,'Redmond Barry.'To Nora I wrote:--'This letter will be found in my bosom along with the token you gaveme. It will be dyed in my blood (unless I have Captain Quin's, whomI hate, but forgive), and will be a pretty ornament for you on yourmarriage-day. Wear it, and think of the poor boy to whom you gaveit, and who died (as he was always ready to do) for your sake.'Redmond.'These letters being written, and sealed with my father's greatsilver seal of the Barry arms, I went down to breakfast; where mymother was waiting for me, you may be sure. We did not say a singleword about what was taking place: on the contrary, we talked ofanything but that; about who was at church the day before, and aboutmy wanting new clothes now I was grown so tall. She said I must havea suit against winter, if--if--she could afford it. She wincedrather at the 'if,' Heaven bless her! I knew what was in her mind.And then she fell to telling me about the black pig that must bekilled, and that she had found the speckled hen's nest that morning,whose eggs I liked so, and other such trifling talk. Some of theseeggs were for breakfast, and I ate them with a good appetite; but inhelping myself to salt I spilled it, on which she started up with ascream. 'Thank God,' said she, It's fallen towards me.' And then,her heart being too full, she left the room. Ah! they have theirfaults, those mothers; but are there any other women like them?When she was gone I went to take down the sword with which my fatherhad vanquished the Hampshire baronet, and, would you believe it?--the brave woman had tied a new riband to the hilt: for indeed shehad the courage of a lioness and a Brady united. And then I tookdown the pistols, which were always kept bright and well oiled, andput some fresh flints I had into the locks, and got balls and powderready against the Captain should come. There was claret and a coldfowl put ready for him on the sideboard, and a case-bottle of oldbrandy too, with a couple of little glasses on the silver tray withthe Barry arms emblazoned. In after life, and in the midst of myfortune and splendour, I paid thirty-five guineas, and almost asmuch more interest, to the London goldsmith who supplied my fatherwith that very tray. A scoundrel pawnbroker would only give mesixteen for it afterwards; so little can we trust the honour ofrascally tradesmen!At eleven o'clock Captain Fagan arrived, on horseback, with amounted dragoon after him. He paid his compliments to the collationwhich my mother's care had provided for him, and then said, 'Lookye, Redmond my boy; this is a silly business. The girl will marryQuin, mark my words; and as sure as she does you'll forget her. Youare but a boy. Quin is willing to consider you as such. Dublin's afine place, and if you have a mind to take a ride thither and seethe town for a month, here are twenty guineas at your service. MakeQuin an apology, and be off.''A man of honour, Mr. Fagan,' says I, 'dies, but never apologises.I'll see the Captain hanged before I apologise.''Then there's nothing for it but a meeting.''My mare is saddled and ready,' says I; 'where's the meeting, andwho's the Captain's second?''Your cousins go out with him,' answered Mr. Fagan.'I'll ring for my groom to bring my mare round,' I said, 'as soon asyou have rested yourself.' Tim was accordingly despatched for Nora,and I rode away, but I didn't take leave of Mrs. Barry. The curtainsof her bedroom windows were down, and they didn't move as we mountedand trotted off. But two hours afterwards, you should have seenher as she came tottering downstairs, and heard the scream which shegave as she hugged her boy to her heart, quite unharmed and withouta wound in his body.What had taken place I may as well tell here. When we got to theground, Ulick, Mick, and the Captain were already there: Quin,flaming in red regimentals, as big a monster as ever led a grenadiercompany. The party were laughing together at some joke of one or theother: and I must say I thought this laughter very unbecoming in mycousins, who were met, perhaps, to see the death of one of theirkindred.'I hope to spoil this sport,' says I to Captain Fagan, in a greatrage, 'and trust to see this sword of mine in yonder big bully'sbody.''Oh! it's with pistols we fight,' replied Mr. Fagan. 'You are nomatch for Quin with the sword.''I'll match any man with the sword,' said I.'But swords are to-day impossible; Captain Quin is--is lame. Heknocked his knee against the swinging park-gate last night, as hewas riding home, and can scarce move it now.''Not against Castle Brady gate,' says I: 'that has been off thehinges these ten years.' On which Fagan said it must have been someother gate, and repeated what he had said to Mr. Quin and mycousins, when, on alighting from our horses, we joined and salutedthose gentlemen.'Oh yes! dead lame,' said Ulick, coming to shake me by the hand,while Captain Quin took off his hat and turned extremely red. 'Andvery lucky for you, Redmond my boy,' continued Ulick; 'you were adead man else; for he is a devil of a fellow--isn't he, Fagan?''A regular Turk,' answered Fagan; adding, 'I never yet knew the manwho stood to Captain Quin.''Hang the business!' said Ulick; 'I hate it. I'm ashamed of it. Sayyou're sorry, Redmond: you can easily say that.''If the young feller will go to Dubling, as proposed'--hereinterposed Mr. Quin.'I am not sorry--I'll not apologise--and I'll as soon go to Dublingas to--!' said I, with a stamp of my foot.'There's nothing else for it,' said Ulick with a laugh to Fagan.'Take your ground, Fagan,--twelve paces, I suppose?''Ten, sir,' said Mr. Quin, in a big voice; 'and make them shortones, do you hear, Captain Fagan?''Don't bully, Mr. Quin,' said Ulick surlily; 'here are the pistols.'And he added, with some emotion, to me, 'God bless you, my boy; andwhen I count three, fire.'Mr. Fagan put my pistol into my hand,--that is, not one of mine(which were to serve, if need were, for the next round), but one ofUlick's. 'They are all right,' said he. 'Never fear: and, Redmond,fire at his neck--hit him there under the gorget. See how the foolshows himself open.' Mick, who had never spoken a word, Ulick, andthe Captain retired to one side, and Ulick gave the signal. It wasslowly given, and I had leisure to cover my man well. I saw himchanging colour and trembling as the numbers were given. At 'three,'both our pistols went off. I heard something whizz by me, and myantagonist, giving a most horrible groan, staggered backwards andfell.'He's down--he's down!' cried the seconds, running towards him.Ulick lifted him up--Mick took his head.'He's hit here, in the neck,' said Mick; and laying open his coat,blood was seen gurgling from under his gorget, at the very spot atwhich I aimed.'How is it with you?' said Ulick. 'Is he really hit?' said he,looking hard at him. The unfortunate man did not answer, but whenthe support of Ulick's arm was withdrawn from his back, groaned oncemore, and fell backwards.'The young fellow has begun well,' said Mick, with a scowl. 'You hadbetter ride off, young sir, before the police are up. They had windof the business before we left Kilwangan.''Is he quite dead?' said I.'Quite dead,' answered Mick.'Then the world's rid of a coward,' said Captain Fagan, giving thehuge prostrate body a scornful kick with his foot. 'It's all overwith him, Reddy,--he doesn't stir.''We are not cowards, Fagan,' said Ulick roughly, 'whatever he was!Let's get the boy off as quick as we may. Your man shall go for acart, and take away the body of this unhappy gentleman. This hasbeen a sad day's work for our family, Redmond Barry: you have robbedus of 1500(pounds) a year.''It was Nora did it,' said I; 'not I.' And I took the riband shegave me out of my waistcoat, and the letter, and flung them down onthe body of Captain Quin. 'There!' says I--'take her those ribands.She'll know what they mean: and that's all that's left to her of twolovers she had and ruined.'I did not feel any horror or fear, young as I was, in seeing myenemy prostrate before me; for I knew that I had met and conqueredhim honourably in the field, as became a man of my name and blood.'And now, in Heaven's name, get the youngster out of the way,' saidMick.Ulick said he would ride with me, and off accordingly we galloped,never drawing bridle till we came to my mother's door. When there,Ulick told Tim to feed my mare, as I would have far to ride thatday; and I was in the poor mother's arms in a minute.I need not tell how great were her pride and exultation when sheheard from Ulick's lips the account of my behaviour at the duel. Heurged, however, that I should go into hiding for a short time; andit was agreed between them that I should drop my name of Barry, and,taking that of Redmond, go to Dublin, and there wait until matterswere blown over. This arrangement was not come to without somediscussion; for why should I not be as safe at Barryville, she said,as my cousin and Ulick at Castle Brady?--bailiffs and duns never gotnear them; why should constables be enabled to come upon me? ButUlick persisted in the necessity of my instant departure; in whichargument, as I was anxious to see the world, I must confess, I sidedwith him; and my mother was brought to see that in our small houseat Barryville, in the midst of the village, and with the guard butof a couple of servants, escape would be impossible. So the kindsoul was forced to yield to my cousin's entreaties, who promisedher, however, that the affair would soon be arranged, and that Ishould be restored to her. Ah! how little did he know what fortunewas in store for me!My dear mother had some forebodings, I think, that our separationwas to be a long one; for she told me that all night long she hadbeen consulting the cards regarding my fate in the duel: and thatall the signs betokened a separation; then, taking out a stockingfrom her escritoire, the kind soul put twenty guineas in a purse forme (she had herself but twenty-five), and made up a little valise,to be placed at the back of my mare, in which were my clothes,linen, and a silver dressing-case of my father's. She bade me, too,to keep the sword and the pistols I had known to use so like a man.She hurried my departure now (though her heart, I know, was full),and almost in half-an-hour after my arrival at home I was once moreon the road again, with the wide world as it were before me. I neednot tell how Tim and the cook cried at my departure: and, mayhap, Ihad a tear or two myself in my eyes; but no lad of sixteen is verysad who has liberty for the first time, and twenty guineas in hispocket: and I rode away, thinking, I confess, not so much of thekind mother left alone, and of the home behind me, as of to-morrow,and all the wonders it would bring.