The Bow of Orange Ribbon - Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr (best book club books of all time txt) 📗

keep a calm sough, and dinna let a fool provoke you to break our hearts, and maybe send you into God's presence uncalled and unblessed.

"Father, put yoursel' in my place. How would you feel toward Captain Hyde?"

"Weel, I'll allow that I wouldna feel kindly. I dinna feel kindly to him, even in my ain place."

"As you desire it, we will speak plainly to each other anent this subject. You know his proud and hasty temper; you know also that I am more like yourself than like Moses in the way of meekness. Now, if Captain Hyde insults me, what course would you advise me to adopt?"

"I wouldna gie him the chance to insult you. I would keep oot o' his way. There is naething unusual or discreditable in taking a journey to Boston, to speir after the welfare o' your brother Alexander."

"Oh, indeed, sir, I cannot leave my affairs for an insolent and ungrateful fool! I ask your advice for the ordinary way of life, not for the way that cowardice or fear dictates. If without looking for him, or avoiding him, we meet, and a quarrel is inevitable, what then, father?"

"Ay, weel, in that case, God prevent it! But in sic a strait, my lad, it is better to gie the insult than to tak' it."

"You know what must follow?"

"Wha doesna ken? Blood, if not murder. Neil, you are a wise and prudent lad; now, isna the sword o' the law sharper than the rapier o' honour?"

"Law has no remedy for the wrongs men of honour redress with the sword. A man may call me every shameful name; but, unless I can show some actual loss in money or money's worth, I have no redress. And suppose that I tried it, and that after long sufferance and delays I got my demands, pray, sir, tell me, how can offences which have flogged a man's most sacred feelings be atoned for by something to put in the pocket?"

"Society, Neil"--

"Society, father, always convicts and punishes the man who takes an insult _on view_, without waiting for his indictment or trial."

"There ought to be a law, Neil"--

"No law will administer itself, sir. The statute-book is a dead letter when it conflicts with public opinion. There is not a week passes but you may see that for yourself, father. If a man is insulted, he must protect his honour; and he will do so until the law is able to protect him better than his own strength."

"There is another way--a mair Christian way"--

"The world has not taken it yet; at any rate, I am very sure none of the Semples have."

"You are, maybe, o'er sure, Neil. Deacon Van Vorst has said mair than my natural man could thole, many a time, in the sessions and oot o' them; but the dominie aye stood between us wi' his word, and we hae managed so far to keep the peace, though a mair pig-headed, provoking, pugnacious auld Dutchman never sat down on the dominie's left hand."

"Then, father, if Captain Hyde should quarrel with me, and if he should challenge me, you advise me to refuse the challenge, and to send for the dominie to settle the matter?"

"I didna say the like o' that, Neil. I am an auld man, and Van Vorst is an aulder one. We'd be a bonnie picture wi' drawn swords in oor shaking hands; though, for mysel', I may say that there wasna a better fencer in Ayrshire, and _that_ the houses o' Lockerby and Lanark hae reason to remember. And I wouldna hae the honour o' the Semples doubted; I'd fight myself first. But I'm in a sair strait, Neil; and oh, my dear lad, what will I say, when it's the Word o' the Lord on one hand, and the scaith and scorn of a' men on the other? But I'll trust to your prudence, Neil, and no begin to feel the weight o' a misery that may ne'er come my way. All my life lang, when evils hae threatened me, I hae sought God's help; and He has either averted them or turned them to my advantage."

"That is a good consolation, father."

"It is that; and I ken nae better plan for life than, when I rise up, to gie mysel' to His direction, and, when I lay me down to sleep, to gie mysel' to His care."

"In such comfortable assurance, sir, I think we may say good-night. I have business early in the morning, and may not wait for your company, if you will excuse me so far."

"Right; vera right, Neil. The dawn has gold in its hand. I used to be an early worker mysel'; but I'm an auld man noo, and may claim some privileges. Good-night, Neil, and a good-morning to follow it."

Neil then lit his candle; and, not forgetting that courteous salute which the young then always rendered to honourable age, he went slowly upstairs, feeling suddenly a great weariness and despair. If Katherine had only been true to him! He was sure, then, that he could have fought almost joyfully any pretender to her favour. But he was deserted by the girl whom he had loved all her sweet life. He was betrayed by the man who had shared the hospitality of his home, and in the cause of such loss, compelled to hazard a life opening up with fair hopes of honour and distinction.

In the calm of his own chamber, through the silent, solemn hours, when the world was shut out of his life, Neil reviewed his position; but he could find no honourable way out of his predicament. Physically, he was as brave as brave could be; morally, he had none of that grander courage which made Joris Van Heemskirk laugh to scorn the idea of yielding God's gift of life at the demand of a passionate fool. He was quite sensible that his first words to Captain Hyde that night had been intended to provoke a quarrel, and he knew that he would be expected to redeem them by a formal defiance. However, as the idea became familiar, it became imperative; and at length it was with a fierce satisfaction that he opened his desk and without hesitation wrote the decisive words:

To CAPTAIN RICHARD HYDE OF HIS MAJESTY'S SERVICE: SIR: A person of the character I bear cannot allow the treachery and dishonourable conduct of which you have been guilty to pass without punishment. Convince me that you are more of a gentleman than I have reason to believe, by meeting me to-night as the sun drops in the wood on the Kalchhook Hill. Our seconds can locate the spot; and that you may have no pretence to delay, I send by bearer two swords, of which I give you the privilege to make choice.

In the interim, at your service,
NEIL SEMPLE.

He had already selected Adrian Beekman as his second. He was a young man of wealth and good family, exceedingly anxious for social distinction, and, moreover, so fastidiously honourable that Neil felt himself in his hands to be beyond reproach. As he anticipated, Beekman accepted the duty with alacrity, and, indeed, so promptly carried out his principal's instructions, that he found Captain Hyde still sleeping when he waited upon him. But Hyde was neither astonished nor annoyed. He laughed lightly at "Mr. Semple's impatience of offence," and directed Mr. Beekman to Captain Earle as his second; leaving the choice of swords and of the ground entirely to his direction.

"A more civil, agreeable, handsome gentleman, impossible it would be to find; and I think the hot haughty temper of Neil is to blame in this affair," was Beekman's private comment. But he stood watchfully by his principal's interests, and affected a gentlemanly disapproval of Captain Hyde's behaviour.

And lightly as Hyde had taken the challenge, he was really more disinclined to fight than Neil was. In his heart he knew that Semple had a just cause of anger; "but then," he argued, "Neil is a proud, pompous fellow, for whom I never assumed a friendship. His father's hospitality I regret in any way to have abused; but who the deuce could have suspected that Neil Semple was in love with the adorable Katherine? In faith, I did not at the first, and now 'tis too late. I would not resign the girl for my life; for I am sensible that life, if she is another's, will be a very tedious thing to me."

All day Neil was busy in making his will, and in disposing of his affairs. He knew himself well enough to be certain, that, if he struck the first blow, he would not hesitate to strike the death blow, and that nothing less than such conclusion would satisfy him. Hyde also anticipated a deathly persistence of animosity in his opponent, and felt equally the necessity for some definite arrangement of his business. Unfortunately, it was in a very confused state. He owed many debts of honour, and Cohen's bill was yet unsettled. He drank a cup of coffee, wrote several important letters, and then went to Fraunce's, and had a steak and a bottle of wine. During his meal his thoughts wandered between Katherine and the Jew Cohen. After it he went straight to Cohen's store.

It happened to be Saturday; and the shutters were closed, though the door was slightly open, and Cohen was sitting with his granddaughter in the cool shadows of the crowded place. Hyde was not in a ceremonious mood, and he took no thought of it being the Jew's sabbath. He pushed wider the door, and went clattering into their presence; and with an air of pride and annoyance the Jew rose to meet him. At the same time, by a quick look of intelligence, he dismissed Miriam; but she did not retreat farther than within the deeper shadows of some curtains of stamped Moorish leather, for she anticipated the immediate departure of the intruder.

She was therefore astonished when her grandfather, after listening to a few sentences, sat down, and entered into a lengthy conversation. And her curiosity was also aroused; for, though Hyde had often been in the store, she had never hitherto seen him in such a sober mood, it was also remarkable that on the sabbath her grandfather should receive papers, and a ring which she watched Hyde take from his finger; and there was, beside, a solemn, a final air about the transaction which gave her the feeling of some anticipated tragedy.

When at last they rose, Hyde extended his hand. "Cohen," he said, "few men would have been as generous and, at this hour, as considerate as you. I have judged from tradition, and misjudged you. Whether we meet again or not, we part as friends."

"You have settled all things as a gentleman, Captain. May my white hairs say a word to your heart this hour?" Hyde bowed; and he continued, in a voice of serious benignity: "The words of the Holy One are to be regarded, and not the words of men. Men call that 'honour' which He will call murder. What excuse is there in your lips if you go this night into His presence?"

There was no excuse in Hyde's lips, even for his mortal interrogator. He merely bowed again, and slipped through the partially opened door into the busy street. Then Cohen put clean linen upon his head and arm, and went and stood with his face to the east, and recited, in low, rhythmical sentences, the prayer called the "Assault." Miriam sat quiet during his