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Richard Carvel
VOLUME 3   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XIV. The Volte Coupe
Winston Churchill
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       _ I was of a serious mind to take the advice. To prove this I called for
       my wrap-rascal and cane, and for a fellow with a flambeau to light me.
       But just then the party arrived from the assembly. I was tempted, and
       I sat down again in a corner of the room, resolved to keep a check upon
       myself, but to stay awhile.
       The rector was the first in, humming a song, and spied me.
       "Ho!" he cried, "will you drink, Richard? Or do I drink with you?"
       He was already purple with wine.
       "God save me from you and your kind!" I replied.
       "'Sblood! what a devil's nest of fireworks!" he exclaimed, as he went
       off down the room, still humming, to where the rest were gathered. And
       they were soon between bottle and stopper, and quips a-coursing. There
       was the captain of the Thunderer, Collinson by name, Lord Comyn and two
       brother officers, Will Fotheringay, my cousin Philip, openly pleased to
       be found in such a company, and some dozen other toadeaters who had
       followed my Lord a-chair and a-foot from the ball, and would have tracked
       him to perdition had he chosen to go; and lastly Tom Swain, leering and
       hiccoughing at the jokes, in such a beastly state of drunkenness as I had
       rarely seen him. His Lordship recognized me and smiled, and was pushing
       his chair back, when something Collinson said seemed to restrain him.
       I believe I was the butt of more than one jest for my aloofness, though I
       could not hear distinctly for the noise they made. I commanded some
       French cognac, and kept my eye on the rector, and the sight of him was
       making me dangerous.
       I forgot the advice I had received, and remembered only the months he had
       goaded me. And I was even beginning to speculate how I could best pick a
       quarrel with him on any issue but politics, when an unexpected incident
       diverted me. Of a sudden the tall, ungainly form of Percy Singleton
       filled the doorway, wrapped in a greatcoat. He swept the room at a
       glance, and then strode rapidly toward the corner where I sat.
       "I had thought to find you here," he said, and dropped into a chair
       beside me. I offered him wine, but he refused.
       "Now," he went on, "what has Patty done?"
       "What have I done that I should be publicly insulted?" I cried.
       "Insulted!" says he, "and did she insult you? She said nothing of that."
       "What brings you here, then?" I demanded.
       "Not to talk, Richard," he said quietly, "'tis no time tonight. I came
       to fetch you home. Patty sent me."
       Patty sent him! Why had Patty sent him? But this I did not ask, for I
       felt the devil within me.
       "We must first finish this bottle," said I, offhand, "and then I have a
       little something to be done which I have set my heart upon. After that I
       will go with you."
       "Richard, Richard, will you never learn prudence? What is it you speak
       of?"
       I drew my sword and laid it upon the table.
       "I mean to spit that eel of a rector," said I, "or he will bear a slap
       in the face. And you must see fair play."
       Singleton seized my coat, at the same time grasping the hilt of my sword
       with the other hand. But neither my words nor my action had gone
       unnoticed by the other end of the room. The company there fell silent
       awhile, and then we heard Captain Collinson talking in even, drawling
       tones.
       "'Tis strange," said he, "what hot sparks a man meets in these colonies.
       They should be stamped out. His Majesty pampers these d--d Americans,
       is too lenient by far. Gentlemen, this is how I would indulge them!"
       He raised a closed fist and brought it down on the board.
       He spoke to Tories, but he forgot that Tories were Americans. In those
       days only the meanest of the King's party would listen to such without
       protest from an Englishman. But some of the meaner sort were there:
       Philip and Tom laughed, and Mr. Allen, and my Lord's sycophants.
       Fotheringay and some others of sense shook their heads one to another,
       comprehending that Captain Collinson was somewhat gone in wine.
       For, indeed, he had not strayed far from the sideboard at the assembly.
       Comyn made a motion to rise.
       "It is already past three bells, sir, and a hunt to-morrow," he said.
       "From bottle to saddle, and from saddle to bottle, my Lord. We must have
       our pleasure ashore, and sleep at sea," and the captain tipped his flask
       with a leer. He turned his eye uncertainly first on me, then on my Lord.
       "We are lately from Boston, gentlemen, that charnel-house of treason,
       and before we leave, my Lord, I must tell them how Mr. Robinson of the
       customs served that dog Otis, in the British Coffee House. God's word,
       'twas as good as a play."
       I know not how many got to their feet at that, for the story of the
       cowardly beating of Mr. Otis by Robinson and the army officers had swept
       over the colonies, burning like a flame all true-hearted men, Tory and
       Whig alike. I wrested my sword from Singleton's hold, and in a trice I
       had reached the captain over chairs and table, tearing myself from
       Fotheringay on the way. I struck a blow that measured a man on the
       floor. Then I drew back, amazed.
       I had hit Lord Comyn instead! The captain stood a yard beyond me.
       The thing had been so deftly done by the rector of St. Anne's--Comyn
       jostled at the proper moment between me and Collinson--that none save me
       guessed beyond an accident; least of all my Lord Comyn himself. He was
       up again directly and his sword drawn, addressing me.
       "Bear witness, my Lord, that I have no desire to fight with you," said I,
       with what coolness I could muster. "But there is one here I would give
       much for a chance to run through."
       And I made a step toward Mr. Allen with such a purpose in my face and
       movements that he could not mistake. I saw the blood go from his face;
       yet he was no coward to physical violence. But he (or I?) was saved by
       the Satan's luck that followed him, for my Lord stepped in between us
       with a bow, his cheek red where I had struck him.
       "It is my quarrel now, Mr. Carvel," he cried.
       "As you please, my Lord," said I.
       "It boots not who crosses with him," Captain Collinson put in. "His
       Lordship uses the sword better than any here. But it boots not so that
       he is opposed by a loyal servant of the King."
       I wheeled on him for this.
       "I would have you know that loyalty does not consist in outrage and
       murder, sir," I answered, "nor in the ridiculing of them. And brutes
       cannot be loyal save through interest."
       He was angered, as I had desired. I had hopes then of shouldering the
       quarrel on to him, for I had near as soon drawn against my own brother as
       against Comyn. I protest I loved him then as one with whom I had been
       reared.
       "Let me deal with this young gamecock, Comyn," cried the captain, with an
       oath. "He seems to think his importance sufficient."
       But Comyn would brook no interference. He swore that no man should
       strike him with impunity, and in this I could not but allow he was right.
       "You shall hear from me, Mr. Carvel," he said.
       "Nay," I answered, "and fighting is to be done, sir, let us be through
       with it at once. A large room upstairs is at our disposal; and there is
       a hunt to-morrow which one of us may like to attend."
       There was a laugh at this, in which his Lordship joined.
       "I would to God, Mr. Carvel," he said, "that I had no quarrel with you!"
       "Amen to that, my Lord," I replied; "there are others here I would rather
       fight." And I gave a meaning look at Mr. Allen. I was of two minds to
       announce the scurvy trick he had played, but saw that I would lose rather
       than gain by the attempt. Up to that time the wretch had not spoken a
       word; now he pushed himself forward, though well clear of me.
       "I think it my duty as Mr. Carvel's tutor, gentlemen, to protest against
       this matter proceeding," he said, a sneer creeping into his voice. "Nor
       can I be present at it. Mr. Carvel is young and, besides, is not himself
       with liquor. And, in the choice of politics, he knows not which leg he
       stands upon. My Lord and gentlemen, your most humble and devoted."
       He made a bow and, before the retort on my lips could be spoken, left the
       tavern. My cousin Philip left with him. Tom Swain had fallen asleep in
       his chair.
       Captain Collinson and Mr. Furness, of the Thunderer, offered to serve his
       Lordship, which made me bethink that I, too, would have need of some one.
       'Twas then I remembered Singleton, who had passed from my mind.
       He was standing close behind me, and nodded simply when I asked him. And
       Will Fotheringay came forward.
       "I will act, Richard, if you allow me," he said. "I would have you know
       I am in no wise hostile to you, my Lord, and I am of the King's party.
       But I admire Mr. Carvel, and I may say I am not wholly out of sympathy
       with that which prompted his act."
       It was a noble speech, and changed Will in my eyes; and I thanked him
       with warmth. He of all that company had the courage to oppose his
       Lordship!
       Mr. Claude was called in and, as is the custom in such cases, was told
       that some of us would play awhile above. He was asked for his private
       room. The good man had his suspicions, but could not refuse a party of
       such distinction, and sent a drawer thither with wine and cards.
       Presently we followed, leaving the pack of toadies in sad disappointment
       below.
       We gathered about the table and made shift at loo until the fellow had
       retired, when the seconds proceeded to clear the room of furniture, and
       Lord Comyn and I stripped off our coats and waistcoats. I had lost my
       anger, but felt no fear, only a kind of pity that blood should be shed
       between two so united in spirit as we. Yes, my dears, I thought of
       Dorothy. If I died, she would hear that it was like a man--like a
       Carvel. But the thought of my old grandfather tightened my heart. Then
       the clock on the inn stairs struck two, and the noise of harsh laughter
       floated up to us from below.
       And Comyn,--of what was he thinking? Of some fair home set upon the
       downs across the sea, of some heroic English mother who had kept her
       tears until he was gone? Her image rose in dumb entreaty, invoked by the
       lad before me. What a picture was he in his spotless shirt with the
       ruffles, his handsome boyish face all that was good and honest!
       I had scarce felt his Lordship's wrist than I knew I had to deal with a
       pupil of Angelo. At first his attacks were all simple, without feint or
       trickery, as were mine. Collinson cursed and cried out that it was
       buffoonery, and called on my Lord not to let me off so easily; swore that
       I fenced like a mercer, that he could have stuck me like a pin-cushion
       twenty and twenty times. Often have I seen two animals thrust into a pit
       with nothing but good-will between them, and those without force them
       into anger and a deadly battle. And so it was, unconsciously, between
       Comyn and me. I forgot presently that I was not dealing with Captain
       Collinson, and my feelings went into my sword. Comyn began to press me,
       nor did I give back. And then, before it came over me that we had to do
       with life and death, he was upon me with a volte coupe, feinting in high
       carte and thrusting in low tierce, his point passing through a fold in my
       shirt. And I were not alive to write these words had I not leaped out of
       his measure.
       "Bravo, Richard!" cried Fotheringay.
       "Well made, gads life!" from Mr. Furness.
       We engaged again, our faces hot. Now I knew that if I did not carry the
       matter against him I should be killed out of hand, and Heaven knows I was
       not used to play a passive part. I began to go carefully, but fiercely;
       tried one attack after another that my grandfather and Captain Daniel had
       taught me,--flanconnades, beats, and lunges. Comyn held me even, and in
       truth I had much to do to defend myself. Once I thought I had him in the
       sword-arm, after a circular parry, but he was too quick for me. We were
       sweating freely by now, and by reason of the buzzing in my ears I could
       scarce hear the applause of the seconds.
       What unlucky chance it was I know not that impelled Comyn to essay again
       the trick by which he had come so near to spitting me; but try it he did,
       this time in prime and seconde. I had come by nature to that intuition
       which a true swordsman must have, gleaned from the eyes of his adversary.
       Long ago Captain Daniel had taught me the remedy for this coupe. I
       parried, circled, and straightened, my body in swift motion and my point
       at Comyn's heart, when Heaven brought me recollection in the space of a
       second. My sword rang clattering on the floor.
       His Lordship understood, but too late. Despairing his life, he made one
       wild lunge at me that had never gone home had I held to my hilt. But the
       rattle of the blade had scarce reached my ears when there came a sharp
       pain at my throat, and the room faded before me. I heard the clock
       striking the half-hour.
       I was blessed with a sturdy health such as few men enjoy, and came to
       myself sooner than had been looked for, with a dash of cold water. And
       the first face I beheld was that of Colonel Washington. I heard him
       speaking in a voice that was calm, yet urgent and commanding.
       "I pray you, gentlemen, give back. He is coming to, and must have air.
       Fetch some linen!"
       "Now God be praised!" I heard Captain Daniel cry.
       With that his Lordship began to tear his own shirt into strips, and the
       captain bringing a bowl and napkin, the colonel himself washed the wound
       and bound it deftly, Singleton and Captain Daniel assisting. When Mr.
       Washington had finished, he turned to Comyn, who stood, anxious and
       dishevelled, at my feet.
       "You may be thankful that you missed the artery, my Lord," he said.
       "With all my heart, Colonel Washington!" cried his Lordship. "I owe my
       life to his generosity."
       "What's that, sir?"
       Mr. Carvel dropped his sword, rather than run me through."
       "I'll warrant!" Captain Daniel put in; "'Od's heart! The lad has skill
       to point the eye of a button. I taught him myself."
       Colonel Washington stood up and laid his hand on the captain's arm.
       "He is Jack Carvel over again," I heard him say, in a low voice.
       I tried to struggle to my feet, to speak, but he restrained me. And
       sending for his servants, he ordered them to have his baggage removed
       from the Roebuck, which was the best bed in the house. At this moment
       the door opened, and Mr. Swain came in hurriedly.
       "I pray you, gentlemen," he cried, "and he is fit to be moved, you will
       let me take him to Marlboro' Street. I have a chariot at the door." _
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Foreword
VOLUME 1
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER I. Lionel Carvel, of Carvel Hall
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER II. Some Memories of Childhood
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER III. Caught by the Tide
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER IV. Grafton would heal an Old Breach
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER V. "If Ladies be but Young and Fair"
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER VI. I first suffer for the Cause
   VOLUME 1 - CHAPTER VII. Grafton has his Chance
VOLUME 2
   VOLUME 2 - CHAPTER VIII. Over the Wall
   VOLUME 2 - CHAPTER IX. Under False Colours
   VOLUME 2 - CHAPTER X. The Red in the Carvel Blood
   VOLUME 2 - CHAPTER XI. A Festival and a Parting
   VOLUME 2 - CHAPTER XII. News from a Far Country
VOLUME 3
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XIII. Mr. Allen shows his Hand
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XIV. The Volte Coupe
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XV. Of which the Rector has the Worst
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XVI. In which Some Things are made Clear
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XVII. South River
   VOLUME 3 - CHAPTER XVIII. The Black Moll.
VOLUME 4
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XIX. A Man of Destiny
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XX. A Sad Home-coming
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XXI. The Gardener's Cottage
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XXII. On the Road
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XXIII. London Town
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XXIV. Castle Yard
   VOLUME 4 - CHAPTER XXV. The Rescue
VOLUME 5
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXVI. The Part Horatio played
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXVII. In which I am sore tempted
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXVIII. Arlington Street
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXIX. I meet a very Great Young Man
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXX. A Conspiracy
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXXI. "Upstairs into the World"
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXXII. Lady Tankerville's Drum-major
   VOLUME 5 - CHAPTER XXXIII. Drury Lane
VOLUME 6
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXIV. His Grace makes Advances
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXV. In which my Lord Baltimore appears .
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXVI. A Glimpse of Mr. Garrick
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXVII. The Serpentine
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXVIII. In which I am roundly brought to task
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XXXIX. Holland House
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XL. Vauxhall
   VOLUME 6 - CHAPTER XLI. The Wilderness
VOLUME 7
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLII. My Friends are proven
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLIII. Annapolis once more
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLIV. Noblesse Oblige
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLV. The House of Memories
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLVI. Gordon's Pride
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLVII. Visitors
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLVIII. Multum in Parvo
   VOLUME 7 - CHAPTER XLIX. Liberty loses a Friend
VOLUME 8
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER L. Farewell to Gordon's
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LI. How an Idle Prophecy came to pass
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LII. How the Gardener's Son fought the Serapis
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LIII. In which I make Some Discoveries
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LIV. More Discoveries.
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LV. The Love of a Maid for a Man
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LVI. How Good came out of Evil
   VOLUME 8 - CHAPTER LVII. I come to my Own again
   Afterward