第8章

"Assassin! Assassin! where are you?" Was it a woman? or was it a boy? We heard nothing more.The effect upon Romayne was terrible to see.He who had calmly confronted the weapon lifted to kill him, shuddered dumbly like a terror-stricken animal.I put my arm round him, and hurried him away from the place.

We waited at the hotel until our French friend joined us.After a brief interval he appeared, announcing that the surgeon would follow him.

The duel had ended fatally.The chance course of the bullet, urged by Romayne's unpracticed hand, had struck the General's son just above the right nostril--had penetrated to the back of his neck--and had communicated a fatal shock to the spinal marrow.He was a dead man before they could take him back to his father's house.

So far, our fears were confirmed.But there was something else to tell, for which our worst presentiments had not prepared us.

A younger brother of the fallen man (a boy of thirteen years old)had secretly followed the dueling party, on their way from his father's house--had hidden himself--and had seen the dreadful end.The seconds only knew of it when he burst out of his place of concealment, and fell on his knees by his dying brother's side.His were the frightful cries which we had heard from invisible lips.The slayer of his brother was the "assassin" whom he had vainly tried to discover through the fathomless obscurity of the mist.

We both looked at Romayne.He silently looked back at us, like a man turned to stone.I tried to reason with him.

"Your life was at your opponent's mercy," I said."It was _he_who was skilled in the use of the pistol; your risk was infinitely greater than his.Are you responsible for an accident?

Rouse yourself, Romayne! Think of the time to come, when all this will be forgotten.""Never," he said, "to the end of my life."He made that reply in dull, monotonous tones.His eyes looked wearily and vacantly straight before him.I spoke to him again.

He remained impenetrably silent; he appeared not to hear, or not to understand me.The surgeon came in, while I was still at a loss what to say or do next.Without waiting to be asked for his opinion, he observed Romayne attentively, and then drew me away into the next room.

"Your friend is suffering from a severe nervous shock," he said.

"Can you tell me anything of his habits of life?"I mentioned the prolonged night studies and the excessive use of tea.The surgeon shook his head.

"If you want my advice," he proceeded, "take him home at once.

Don't subject hi m to further excitement, when the result of the duel is known in the town.If it ends in our appearing in a court of law, it will be a mere formality in this case, and you can surrender when the time comes.Leave me your address in London."I felt that the wisest thing I could do was to follow his advice.

The boat crossed to Folkestone at an early hour that day--we had no time to lose.Romayne offered no objection to our return to England; he seemed perfectly careless what became of him."Leave me quiet," he said; "and do as you like." I wrote a few lines to Lady Berrick's medical attendant, informing him of the circumstances.A quarter of an hour afterward we were on board the steamboat.

There were very few passengers.After we had left the harbor, my attention was attracted by a young English lady--traveling, apparently, with her mother.As we passed her on the deck she looked at Romayne with compassionate interest so vividly expressed in her beautiful face that I imagined they might be acquainted.With some difficulty, I prevailed sufficiently over the torpor that possessed him to induce him to look at our fellow passenger.

"Do you know that charming person?" I asked.

"No," he replied, with the weariest indifference."I never saw her before.I'm tired--tired--tired! Don't speak to me; leave me by myself."I left him.His rare personal attractions--of which, let me add, he never appeared to be conscious--had evidently made their natural appeal to the interest and admiration of the young lady who had met him by chance.The expression of resigned sadness and suffering, now visible in his face, added greatly no doubt to the influence that he had unconsciously exercised over the sympathies of a delicate and sensitive woman.It was no uncommon circumstance in his past experience of the sex--as I myself well knew--to be the object, not of admiration only, but of true and ardent love.He had never reciprocated the passion--had never even appeared to take it seriously.Marriage might, as the phrase is, be the salvation of him.Would he ever marry?

Leaning over the bulwark, idly pursuing this train of thought, Iwas recalled to present things by a low sweet voice--the voice of the lady of whom I had been thinking.

"Excuse me for disturbing you," she said; "I think your friend wants you."She spoke with the modesty and self-possession of a highly-bred woman.A little heightening of her color made her, to my eyes, more beautiful than ever.I thanked her, and hastened back to Romayne.

He was standing by the barred skylight which guarded the machinery.I instantly noticed a change in him.His eyes wandering here and there, in search of me, had more than recovered their animation--there was a wild look of terror in them.He seized me roughly by the arm and pointed down to the engine-room.

"What do you hear there?" he asked.

"I hear the thump of the engines."

"Nothing else?"

"Nothing.What do _you_ hear?"

He suddenly turned away.

"I'll tell you," he said, "when we get on shore."