For my own part it seemed to me that with so just a cause we should have done best to ride boldly up to his door and summon him to surrender the lady.But there I was wrong.For the one thing which every Englishman fears is the law.He makes it himself, and when he has once made it it becomes a terrible tyrant before whom the bravest quails.He will smile at breaking his neck, but he will turn pale at breaking the law.It seems, then, from what Lord Rufton told me as we walked through the park, that we were on the wrong side of the law in this matter.Lord Dacre was in the right in carrying off his wife, since she did indeed belong to him, and our own position now was nothing better than that of burglars and trespassers.It was not for burglars to openly approach the front door.We could take the lady by force or by craft, but we could not take her by right, for the law was against us.This was what my friend explained to me as we crept up toward the shelter of a shrubbery which was close to the windows of the house.Thence we could examine this fortress, see whether we could effect a lodgment in it, and, above all, try to establish some communication with the beautiful prisoner inside.
There we were, then, in the shrubbery, Lord Rufton and I, each with a pistol in the pockets of our riding coats, and with the most resolute determination in our hearts that we should not return without the lady.
Eagerly we scanned every window of the wide-spread house.
Not a sign could we see of the prisoner or of anyone else; but on the gravel drive outside the door were the deep- sunk marks of the wheels of the chaise.There was no doubt that they had arrived.Crouching among the laurel bushes we held a whispered council of wary but a singular interruption brought it to an end.
Out of the door of the house there stepped a tall, flaxen- haired man, such a figure as one would choose for the flank of a Grenadier company.As he turned his brown face and his blue eyes toward us I recognised Lord Dacre.
With long strides he came down the gravel path straight for the spot where we lay.
"Come out, Ned!" he shouted; "you'll have the game- keeper putting a charge of shot into you.Come out, man, and don't skulk behind the bushes."It was not a very heroic situation for us.My poor friend rose with a crimson face.I sprang to my feet also and bowed with such dignity as I could muster.
"Halloa! it's the Frenchman, is it?" said he, without returning my bow."I've got a crow to pluck with him already.As to you, Ned, I knew you would be hot on our scent, and so I was looking out for you.I saw you cross the park and go to ground in the shrubbery.Come in, man, and let us have all the cards on the table."He seemed master of the situation, this handsome giant of a man, standing at his ease on his own ground while we slunk out of our hiding- place.Lord Rufton had said not a word, but I saw by his darkened brow and his sombre eyes that the storm was gathering.Lord Dacre led the way into the house, and we followed close at his heels.
He ushered us himself into an oak-panelled sitting-room, closing the door behind us.Then he looked me up and down with insolent eyes.
"Look here, Ned," said he, "time was when an English family could settle their own affairs in their own way.
What has this foreign fellow got to do with your sister and my wife?" "Sir," said I, "permit me to point out to you that this is not a casemerely of a sister or a wife, but that I am the friend of the lady in question, and that I have the privilege which every gentleman possesses of protecting a woman against brutality.It is only by a gesture that I can show you what I think of you." I had my riding glove in my hand, and I flicked him across the face with it.He drew back with a bitter smile and his eyes were as hard as flint.
"So you've brought your bully with you, Ned?" said he."You might at least have done your fighting yourself, if it must come to a fight.""So I will," cried Lord Rufton."Here and now.""When I've killed this swaggering Frenchman," said Lord Dacre.He stepped to a side table and opened a brass-bound case."By Gad," said he, "either that man or I go out of this room feet foremost.I meant well by you, Ned; I did, by George, but I'll shoot this led- captain of yours as sure as my name's George Dacre.
Take your choice of pistols, sir, and shoot across this table.The barkers are loaded.Aim straight and kill me if you can, for by the Lord if you don't, you're done."In vain Lord Rufton tried to take the quarrel upon himself.Two things were clear in my mind--one that the Lady Jane had feared above all things that her husband and brother should fight, the other that if I could but kill this big milord, then the whole question would be settled forever in the best way.Lord Rufton did not want him.Lady Jane did not want him.Therefore, I, Etienne Gerard, their friend, would pay the debt of gratitude which I owed them by freeing them of this encumbrance.But, indeed, there was no choice in the matter, for Lord Dacre was as eager to put a bullet into me as I could be to do the same service to him.In vain Lord Rufton argued and scolded.The affair must continue.
"Well, if you must fight my guest instead of myself, let it be to- morrow morning with two witnesses," he cried, at last; "this is sheer murder across the table.""But it suits my humour, Ned," said Lord Dacre."And mine, sir," said I.
"Then I'll have nothing to do with it," cried Lord Rufton."I tell you, George, if you shoot Colonel Gerard under these circumstances you'll find yourself in the dock instead of on the bench.I won't act as second, and that's flat.""Sir," said I, "I am perfectly prepared to proceed without a second." "That won't do.It's against the law," cried Lord Dacre."Come,Ned, don't be a fool.You see we mean to fight.Hang it, man, all I want you to do is to drop a handkerchief.""I'll take no part in it."
"Then I must find someone who will," said Lord Dacre.
