Sustained honor Part 19

"By the duel. Lieutenant Matson is an old friend of the captain, and I believe a suitor for the hand of his daughter. What show has a schoolboy against a lieutenant in the English navy?--none."

"Yes he has," declared Terrence.

"What show can he have?"

"Lave it all to me, me frind, and I will bring ye out all right, see if I don't."

"I have left too many things to you, Terrence, and you have a most remarkable faculty for getting me into trouble."

Terrence a.s.sured him that he would yet aid him to outgeneral the Englishman, and he only wished that he might come into port during their stay.

"Terrence, you must take no advantage of the public hatred of the English to accomplish your purpose. Remember, Lieutenant Matson is the son of Captain Lane's friend. You might raise a mob and have him driven away; but I will not consent to it."

"Indade, I don't mane it, me boy. Lave it to me. If he comes ash.o.r.e, faith, we'll out-gineral him, sure."

Next day there came letters for the runaways. Terrence's father, being wealthy and influential, had gone to Baltimore, interceded with the faculty and had the runaway scapegraces retained. There were also letters from the parents of the young men, condemning, but at the time forgiving and warning them to be more careful in the future.

It was some distance by the road to Baltimore, and the boys decided to take pa.s.sage in a coasting schooner which was loading with barley and would be ready to go in three days.

One morning, two days before their intended departure, Fernando, on going out upon the street, was surprised and really alarmed to see an English man-of-war anch.o.r.ed in the little harbor of Marianna. His uneasiness was greatly increased on reading the name _Xenophon_ on the broad pennant floating from the main mast. His enemy was in port, and he could guess his object, especially when he saw Captain Lane's carriage waiting on the sands while Lieutenant Matson was being rowed ash.o.r.e.

Fernando gnashed his teeth and there were some ugly thoughts in his heart.

Sukey who had come out hastened to his side and reading his thoughts said:

"Now don't you wish you had aimed higher?"

The citizens, noticing the approach of an English war vessel, began to congregate in a large body on the north side of the village, and their demonstrations were decidedly hostile to the landing of the Briton.

Suddenly Captain Lane appeared among them, waving his staff and shouting. Having gained their attention, the old sea-captain mounted the stile near the village store and said:

"s.h.i.+pmates and friends, the man coming ash.o.r.e is the son of a man whom I loved. I have sent my carriage down to bring him to my house where he is to be my guest. You have all heard me tell how his father saved my life.

Would you injure him now, when he comes to pay me a friendly visit?" In a short time the crowd dispersed, and Lieutenant Matson landed, entered the carriage and was driven to the house of Captain Lane.

From the street, Fernando, with bitter feelings in his heart, saw the carriage ascend the hill. He turned about and entered the tavern, went to his room and shut himself up. Here he remained until the middle of the afternoon, when there came a knock at the door, and, on opening it, he was astonished to find one of the negroes of Captain Lane's house. He was dressed in livery and held a note in his hand, which he gave to "Mistah Stevens," bowed politely and awaited his answer.

The utter amazement of Fernando can better be imagined than described at finding the note from Miss Morgianna Lane inviting himself and his friends to tea that evening with themselves, Lieutenant Matson and ensign Post of his majesty's s.h.i.+p _Xenophon_. Had Fernando been summoned to a command in his majesty's navy, he could not have been more astonished. He hesitated a moment and then decided to accept. This Englishman should neither out-do him in generosity nor affrontery.

Besides, the invitation came from Morgianna, and he could not refuse. He wrote a polite answer, accepting the kind invitation and went to find Sukey and Terrence. Sukey thought it would be a little odd for Fernando to meet a man with whom he had exchanged shots; but Terrence declared it was the only "dacint" thing to do. They were not "haythin," to bear grudges.

Consequently they went. The minds of the Americans were filled with doubt and perplexity, while the Irishman was chuckling at a plan his cunning brain was evolving, and which he determined to put in execution.

The Englishmen met the Americans very cordially, and Lieutenant Matson, who was every inch a gentleman, did not dare be other than genteel in the presence of the lady he loved; for he was as pa.s.sionately in love with Morgianna as was Fernando. The lieutenant was of a romantic turn of mind, and the mystery of the sea waif had interested him. He was quite sure she was the daughter of some n.o.bleman. He had read in romances so many cases similar to hers, that he could not believe this would turn out otherwise.

When Fernando and the lieutenant had shaken hands and mutually agreed to bury all past differences, had they not been rivals they might have become friends, for each recognized in the other some qualities that were admirable.

The beauty of a lovely woman is like music, rich in cadence and sweet in rhythm; but that beauty must be for one alone. It cannot, like music, be shared with others. The best of friends may, as rivals, become the bitterest foes. Fernando did not like the Englishman, for, with all his blandness, he thought he could observe a pompous air and self-consciousness of superiority, disgusting to sensible persons. This might have been prejudice or the result of imagination, yet he realized that he was in the presence of an ambitious rival, who would go to any length to gain his purpose.

The most careful and disinterested observer could not have discovered any preference on the part of Morgianna. When they came to the table, she had the lieutenant on one side and Fernando on the other. The old captain at the head engrossed much of Lieutenant Matson's time talking about his father, greatly to the annoyance of the officer. When Matson came to take his seat at the table, Terrence, who sat on the opposite side of the lieutenant, whispered:

"Aisy!"

The lieutenant bit his lips and his face flushed angrily, while Sukey, who sat on the opposite side of the Irishman, snickered, and Morgianna bit her pretty lip most cruelly in trying to conceal the merriment which her roguish eyes expressed.

This was the only break made by the Irishman that evening. He played his part with consummate grace and had such a way of winning the favor of people, that, before the evening was over, the Englishman actually came to like him. He praised the country about Mariana, and talked of the harbors and islands, declaring he knew them all from Duck Island to the Chesapeake. He found Lieutenant Matson somewhat of a sport, and soon interested him in stories of duck shooting, all of which were inventions of his own ingenious brain. Miss Morgianna praised the wild ducks of Maryland and thought their flesh equal to English Capons. The lieutenant, in his gallantry, vowed she should have half a dozen brace of fowls before he left, and Terrence volunteered to a.s.sist him.

Fernando was amazed at the course of his friend. The man-of-war was to sail the same day their schooner did, and he had just determined, by the aid of Terrence, to bag five dozen brace of ducks for the belle of Mariana, when his friend went boldly over to the enemy.

"I'll give it to him, when I get a chance," he thought.

There was only one more night in which they could shoot ducks, and Terrence was engaged for that occasion. Fernando sighed and ground his teeth in rage and disappointment, while Morgianna, with Sukey on one side and Ensign Post on the other, went to a large Broadwood piano, where she soon entertained all with her music.

As they went to their tavern that night, Fernando said:

"A nice way you have treated me, Terrence, you who profess to be my friend."

"What the divil ails the boy?" asked Terrence.

"You have volunteered to aid the lieutenant go ducking--"

"Aisy me boy! While the lieutenant is after ducks, lose no time with the girl. Don't ye see I'm getting him out of yer way?"

Fernando had not thought of it in that light. On the next evening, the last they were to spend at Mariana, the lieutenant was rowed ash.o.r.e attired for sporting, with top-boots and a double-barrelled fowling piece. Terrence, who claimed to be an experienced hunter, advised him to "kape their intintions sacrit," as too many might want to go, and that would spoil the sport. Ducks could best be hunted after night. He would show him how it was done.

It was almost dark, when they set off in a small rowboat for Duck Island, and twenty minutes later Fernando was on his way to his farewell visit to Morgianna.

The sun had set, but it was not yet dark when Fernando reached the broad piazza. He asked himself if she would be at home or away. He had said nothing of his coming. This visit was wholly on his own account. He had walked up and down the piazza two or three times, when through the open door he caught the flutter of a garment on the stairway. It was Morgianna's--to whom else could it belong? No dress but hers had such a flow as that. He gathered up courage and followed it into the hallway.

His darkening the door, into which the sombre shadows of twilight were already creeping, caused her to look around. "Oh that face! If it hadn't been for that," thought Fernando, "I could never have faced the Briton.

She is twenty times handsomer than ever. She might marry a Lord!"

He didn't say this. He only thought it--perhaps looked it also.

Morgianna was glad to see him and was _so_ sorry her father was away from home. Fernando begged she would not worry herself on any account.

Morgianna hesitated to lead the way into the parlor, for there it was nearly dark. At the same time she hesitated to stand talking in the hall, which was tolerably light from the open door. They still stood in the hall in an embarra.s.sing position, Fernando holding her hand in his (which he had no right to do, for Morgianna had only given it to him to shake), and yet both hesitated to go or stay anywhere.

"I have come," said Fernando, "to say good-bye--to say good-bye, for I don't know how many years; perhaps forever. I am going away."

Now this was exactly what he should not have said. Here he was, talking like a gentleman at large, who was free to come and go and roam about the world at his pleasure, when he had expressed both in actions and words that Miss Lane held him in adamantine chains.

Morgianna released her hand and said:

"Indeed!"

She remarked in the same breath that it was a fine night and, in short, betrayed not the least emotion. With despair still settling over his heart, Fernando said:

"I couldn't go without coming to see you. I hadn't the heart to."

Morgianna was more sorry than she could tell that he had taken the trouble. It was a long walk up the hill, and as he was to sail next day, he must have a deal to do; as if she did not know that he had not brought even a trunk with him. Then she wanted to know how Mr. Winners was and Mr. Malone. She thought the Irishman a capital good fellow, and was sure no one could help liking him.

"Is this all you have to say?" Fernando asked.