George Henty - The Cornet of Horse - A Tale of Marlborough's Wars
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- Название:The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars
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"I know it, madam," Rupert said, sadly; "but this will in no way alter my determination. If when you marry you give me your permission to remain here with my grandfather, I will do so. If not, I will go forth into the world to seek my fortune."
"Insolent boy!" Mistress Holliday said, furiously, "I have a mind to call the lackeys in and bid them beat you."
"Madam," Rupert said, drawing himself up and touching his sword lightly, "if you value your lackeys you will give no such order; for the first man, lackey or lord, who lays his hand on me, I would kill like a dog. With your permission, madam, I will retire, since this morning I take my dancing lesson."
So saying, with a ceremonious bow Rupert left his mother's presence. Monsieur Dessin and his daughter were already with Colonel Holliday when Rupert joined them, and he went through his dancing lesson as usual. Then Adele went as usual out into the garden, and the fencing lesson began. When it was half over, Rupert's brow clouded angrily, for he heard horsemen ride up to the door, and felt sure who they were.
"Steady, my dear pupil, steady," Monsieur Dessin cried, as with knitted brow Rupert pressed him hotly, fancying at the moment that Sir William Brownlow stood in front of him.
"Peste!" he exclaimed, as the lad lunged and touched him in the chest, "you are terrible, Monsieur!
"Colonel," he went on, dropping his sword, "I resign my post. I have seen it coming for some time, and now it has arrived. Your grandson is more than a match for me. He has all my skill, some of yours, and has besides an activity and suppleness greater, I think, than I ever had. You young islanders are trained to use hand and eye; and although French lads may have as much activity, they have far less strength, far less aptitude for such exercises. Besides, there are other reasons.
"Go, Monsieur Rupert, and take care of my daughter; I would talk with monsieur your grandfather."
Slowly, and brooding over the change which the late twenty-four hours had made in his fortune, Rupert sought the garden. As he sauntered along the walks he heard a cry, and looking up saw Adele struggling in the arms of James Brownlow, who was trying to kiss her, while a young fellow his own age stood by laughing. Rupert's pent-up fury found a vent at last, and rushing forward, he struck the aggressor so violent a blow between the eyes that, loosing his hold of Adele, he fell to the ground.
"Thunder and lightning," the other young man exclaimed, drawing his sword, "what means this, young cockerel?"
Rupert's sword flew from its sheath, but before he could cross it, James Brownlow sprang to his feet and crying to his friend, "Stand back! I will spit the saucy knave!" rushed upon Rupert.
The swords clashed, and almost simultaneously Brownlow's weapon flew far through the air.
With a cry of fury he ran to fetch it, while his companion burst into a coarse laugh.
Rupert did not move from his position, but stood passive, until his antagonist again rushed at him.
"Mind this time," Rupert said, between his teeth, "for I will kill you like a dog."
Warned by the lesson, James Brownlow fought more carefully; but he was too enraged to continue these tactics long, and after a short bout he lunged furiously. Rupert turned aside the point and straightened his arm, and his antagonist fell to the ground, run completely through the body.
"You are a witness that I killed him in fair fight," Rupert said, turning to the young man, who gazed stupefied at the body of his comrade, and then sheathing his sword bounded away to the stables.
Hugh was there.
"Quick, Hugh; saddle Ronald. I have just killed young Brownlow, and must ride for it."
Hugh stood for a moment astonished, and then calling a helper ran into the stables. In a minute he came out with two horses saddled. Without a word Rupert leapt on one, while he vaulted on the other, and the two dashed off at full speed.
"Where are you going, Master Rupert?"
"To London," Rupert said. "This is no place for me now. I killed him in fair fight, and after warning; still, what with Sir William and my lady mother, there will be no stopping here. You had better ride back, Hugh, and tell my grandfather, privately, that I am going to the Earl of Marlborough, to ask him to give me the cornetcy he promised me."
"With your leave, Master Rupert, I shall do nothing of the sort. Where you go, I go. My grandfather rode out with yours to Naseby, and died there. My people have been the tenants of the Chace as long as the Hollidays have been its lords, and have always followed their master to the field. My old father would beat me out of the house with a broom handle, if I went back and said I had let you go to the wars alone. No, master Rupert, wherever you go, Hugh Parsons goes too."
Rupert held out his hand, which his companion grasped, and the two galloped rapidly along the road towards London.
In the meantime all was consternation at the Chace.
Colonel Holliday and Monsieur Dessin were deeply engaged in conversation when Adele burst in upon them.
"Quick, quick!" she exclaimed, "Monsieur Rupert is fighting with a wicked young man!"
"Then," said Monsieur Dessin grimly, "it will be very bad for the wicked young man, whoever he is."
"Where are they?" exclaimed Colonel Holliday.
"In the garden," the girl said, bursting into tears. "The wicked young man was rude to me, and wanted to kiss me, and Monsieur Rupert knocked him down, and then they began to fight, and I ran away."
Monsieur Dessin swore a very deep oath in French, and was about to hurry out with Colonel Holliday. Then he stopped, and putting his hand on the colonel's shoulder, said coldly:
"Do not let us hurry, sir. Monsieur Rupert has taken the matter in his hands. It is as well that he should kill this fellow as that I should have to do so."
Just at this moment they reached the door, and a young man came running up to the house shouting:
"Young Mr. Brownlow is killed. Help! help!"
"I think, Monsieur Dessin," Colonel Holliday said, stopping, "it would be as well if you and mademoiselle were for the present to leave us. There will be trouble enough, and the fewer in it the better. Sir William is a hot man, and you are not a cool one. Enough mischief has been done."
"You are right," Monsieur Dessin said. "Will you tell Monsieur Rupert that so long as my arm can lift a sword it is at his service, and that I am his debtor for life.
"Come, Adele, let us leave by the front of the house."
Colonel Holliday now hurried out into the garden, just as Sir William Brownlow, accompanied by his son's friend, rushed out of the house, followed by some lackeys with scared faces.
Not a word was spoken as they ran to the spot where young Brownlow was lying.
Sir William and Colonel Holliday both knelt beside him, and the latter put his finger to his pulse.
"He is not dead," he said, after a moment. "Ralph, saddle a horse, and ride with all speed to Derby for a doctor."
"Ay," Sir William said, "and tell the chief magistrate that he is wanted here, with one of his constables, for that murder has been done."
"You will do nothing of the sort," Colonel Holliday said.
"Sir William Brownlow, I make every excuse for you in your grief, but even from you I will permit no such word to be used. Your son has been wounded in fair fight, and whether he dies or not, alters the circumstances no whit. My grandson found him engaged in offering a gross insult to a young lady in the garden of my house. He did what I should have done had I so found him–he knocked him down. They fought, and your son was worsted. I think, sir, that for the credit of your house you had best be quiet over the matter.
"Hush, sir," he went on sternly, seeing that the baronet was about to answer furiously. "I am an old man, but I will put up with bluster from no man."
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