The Master of Appleby | Page 2

and the
evensong of a pair of clear-throated warblers poised on the topmost
twigs of one of the trees, should have been sweet music in the ears of a
returned exile. But on that matchless bride's-month evening of dainty
sunset arabesques and brook and bird songs, I was in little humor for
rejoicing.
The road made for the river lower down and followed its windings up
the valley; but Jennifer came by the Indian trace through the forest. I
can see him now as he rode beneath the maples, bending to the saddle
horn where the branches hung lowest; a pretty figure of a handsome
young provincial, clad in fashions three years behind those I had seen
in London the winter last past. He rode gentleman-wise, in
small-clothes of rough gray woolen and with stout leggings over his
hose; but he wore his cocked hat atilt like a trooper's, and the sword on
his thigh was a good service blade, and no mere hilt and scabbard for
show such as our courtier macaronis were just then beginning to affect.
Now I had known this handsome youngster when he was but a little lad;
had taught him how to bend the Indian bow and loose the reed-shaft
arrow in those happier days before the tyrant Governor Tryon turned
hangman, and the battle of the Great Alamance had left me fatherless.
Moreover, I had drunk a cup of wine with him at the Mecklenburg
Arms no longer ago than yesterweek--this to a renewal of our early
friendship. Hence, I must needs be somewhat taken aback when he
drew rein at my door-stone, doffed his hat with a sweeping bow worthy
a courtier of the great Louis, and said, after the best manner of Sir
Charles Grandison:
"I have the honor of addressing Captain John Ireton, sometime of his
Majesty's Royal Scots Blues, and late of her Apostolic Majesty's
Twenty-ninth Regiment of Hussars?"
It was but an euphuism of the time, this formal preamble, declaring that
his errand had to do with the preliminaries of a private quarrel between
gentlemen. Yet I could scarce restrain a smile. For these upcroppings of
courtier etiquette have ever seemed to march but mincingly with the

free stride of our western backwoods. None the less, you are to suppose
that I made shift to match his bow in some fashion, and to say: "At your
service, sir."
Whereupon he bowed again, clapped hat to head and tendered me a
sealed packet.
"From Sir Francis Falconnet, Knight Bachelor of Beaumaris, volunteer
captain in his Majesty's German Legion," he announced, with stern
dignity.
Having no second to refer him to, I broke the seal of the cartel myself.
Since my enemy had seen fit to come thus far on the way to his end in
some gentlemanly manner, it was not for me to find difficulties among
the formalities. In good truth, I was overjoyed to be thus assured that he
would fight me fair; that he would not compel me to kill him as one
kills a wild beast at bay. For certainly I should have killed him in any
event: so much I had promised my poor Dick Coverdale on that dismal
November morning when he had choked out his life in my arms, the
victim first of this man's treachery, and, at the last, of his sword. So, as
I say, I was nothing loath, and yet I would not seem too eager.
"I might say that I have no unsettled quarrel with Captain Falconnet," I
demurred, when I had read the challenge. "He spoke slightingly of a
lady, and I did but--"
"Your answer, Captain Ireton!" quoth my youngster, curtly. "I am not
empowered to give or take in the matter of accommodations."
"Not so fast, if you please," I rejoined. "I have no wish to disappoint
your principal, or his master, the devil. Let it be to-morrow morning at
sunrise in the oak grove which was once my father's wood field, each
man with his own blade. And I give you fair warning, Master Jennifer;
I shall kill your bullyragging captain of light-horse as I would a vermin
of any other breed."
At this Jennifer flung himself from his saddle with a great laugh.

"If you can," he qualified. "But enough of these 'by your leave, sirs.' I
am near famished, and as dry as King David's bottle in the smoke. Will
you give me bite and sup before I mount and ride again? 'Tis a long
gallop back to town on an empty stomach, and with a gullet as dry as
Mr. Gilbert Stair's wit."
Here was my fresh-hearted Dick Jennifer back again all in a breath; and
I made haste to shout for Darius, and for Tomas to take his horse, and
otherwise to