The Amazing Marriage | Page 5

great white beard and hair--not a
lock of it shed--and his bronze lion-face, and a resolute but a merry eye
that he had. He was no deep drinker of wine, but when he did drink,
and the wine champagne, he drank to show his disdain of its powers;
and the emperor wishing for a narrative of some of his exploits,
particularly the blowing up of his ship, Kirby paid his Majesty the
compliment of giving it him as baldly as an official report to the
Admiralty. So disengaged and calm was he, with his bottles of
champagne in him, where another would have been sparkling and
laying on the colours, that he was then and there offered Admiral's rank
in the Imperial navy; and the Old Buccaneer, like a courtier of our best
days, bows to Countess Fanny, and asks her, if he is a free man to go:
and, No, says she, we cannot spare you! And there was a pretty wrangle
between Countess Fanny and the emperor, each pulling at the Old
Buccaneer to have possession of him.
He was rarely out of her sight after their first meeting, and the
ridiculous excuse she gave to her husband's family was, she feared he
would be kidnapped and made a Cossack of! And young Lord Cressett,
her husband, began to grumble concerning her intimacy with a man old
enough to be her grandfather. As if the age were the injury! He seemed
to think it so, and vowed he would shoot the old depredator dead, if he

found him on the grounds of Cressett: 'like vermin,' he said, and it was
considered that he had the right, and no jury would have convicted him.
You know what those days were.
He had his opportunity one moonlight night, not far from the castle,
and peppered Kirby with shot from a fowling-piece at, some say, five
paces' distance, if not point-blank.
But Kirby had a maxim, Steady shakes them, and he acted on it to
receive his enemy's fire; and the young lord's hand shook, and the Old
Buccaneer stood out of the smoke not much injured, except in the
coat-collar, with a pistol cocked in his hand, and he said:
'Many would take that for a declaration of war, but I know it 's only
your lordship's diplomacy'; and then he let loose to his mad fun,
astounding Lord Cressett and his gamekeeper, and vowed, as the young
lord tried to relate subsequently, as well as he could recollect the
words-- here I have it in print:--'that he was a man pickled in saltpetre
when an infant, like Achilles, and proof against powder and shot not
marked with cross and key, and fetched up from the square magazine in
the central depot of the infernal factory, third turning to the right off the
grand arcade in Kingdom-come, where the night-porter has to wear wet
petticoats, like a Highland chief, to make short work of the sparks
flying about, otherwise this world and many another would not have to
wait long for combustion.'
Kirby had the wildest way of talking when he was not issuing orders
under fire, best understood by sailors. I give it you as it stands here
printed. I do not profess to understand.
So Lord Cressett said: 'Diplomacy and infernal factories be hanged!
Have your shot at me; it's only fair.' And Kirby discharged his pistol at
the top twigs of an old oak tree, and called the young lord a Briton, and
proposed to take him in hand and make a man of him, as nigh worthy
of his wife as any one not an Alexander of Macedon could be.
So they became friendly, and the young lord confessed it was his
family that had urged him to the attack; and Kirby abode at the castle,

and all three were happy, in perfect honour, I am convinced: but such
was not the opinion of the Cressetts and Levelliers. Down they trooped
to Cressett Castle with a rush and a roar, crying on the disgrace of an
old desperado like Kirby living there; Dukes, Marchionesses, Cabinet
Ministers, leaders of fashion, and fire-eating colonels of the King's
body-guard, one of whom Captain John Peter Kirby laid on his heels at
ten paces on an April morning, when the duel was fought, as early as
the blessed heavens had given them light to see to do it. Such days
those were!
There was talk of shutting up the infatuated lady. If not incarcerated,
she was rigidly watched. The earl her husband fell altogether to
drinking and coaching, and other things. The ballad makes her say:
'My family my gaolers be, My husband is a zany; Naught see I clear
save my bold Buccaneer To rescue Countess Fanny!'
and it goes on: