the sun had not yet risen: earth and sky were softly gray and brown, with green where the meadows lay, and purple in the shadows. morning, like a white flower with a heart of gold, opened in the east. shafts of light—the sun’s gold-tipped arrows—quivered on the distant hills, while the vapors, smokelike and fantastic, floated along the level lands and the trees loomed spectre-like.
it was chilly, too, with the chill of dawn in the early autumn, and lord clancarty and young mackie were muffled in their cloaks as they walked across the fields together. the irishman was smiling, in his usual daring fashion, but the younger man was sober and even nervous as he listened to him.
“i have to thank you, sir edward,” clancarty said, “for standing by a stranger, but i should look for no less at your hands.”
[pg 121]“i am very glad to serve you, mr. trevor,” the young man replied, blushing like a girl, “i thought lord savile’s attitude toward you quite unwarranted.”
“we irishmen do not look for courtesy at the hands of our conquerors, except in a few rare instances,” clancarty said; “but it is due to you, sir edward, to tell you that my name is not trevor; i assumed it for convenience only; i am the proscribed exile, donough macarthy of clancarty.”
young mackie stopped short with a gasp.
“lady clancarty’s husband!” he cried, turning deadly pale.
lord clancarty bowed. “the same,” he said smiling, “and in telling you, i confide in your honor not to reveal my identity—even to lady clancarty, unless i fall, and then—i would have her ladyship know that she was free.”
but young mackie had not yet recovered his composure; he stared at the earl strangely.
“does she not divine your identity?” he asked, and the pain in his face was so easy to read that lady clancarty’s husband smiled again.
“i think not,” he responded; “but we must go on unless we would be tardy at keeping the[pg 122] tryst.” then he glanced sharply at the boy, “i take it for granted that you are willing to stand by me; if not—i fully pardon you, sir edward, and i can go alone.”
young mackie’s face crimsoned.
“nay, my lord,” he said bluntly, “i did not offer to stand by you for love, but for honor’s sake, and now—i will—for her sake,” and he raised his hat reverently.
lord clancarty bared his own head and kissed the hilt of his sword.
“for her dear sake, sir,” he said; “so let it be, i love you for it,” and they walked on in silence.
they passed through the grove of limes and entered the field. as they did so, the sunbeams, sloping from the hills, fell on the tree tops, but the long meadow was in the shadow. the sweetness of new-mown hay was in the air; there was a glint of white blossoming still upon the hedgerow, and beyond, the red brown of new turned earth and green, the green of the turf and the hawthorn.
across the meadow from the farther side came lord savile and mr. benham, and as the two parties approached they saluted courteously. clancarty was smiling, gracious, perfectly at ease, but his opponent scowled[pg 123] sullenly; some instinct—a brute one doubtless—made him hate this daring irishman. sir edward, full of boyish importance, beckoned mr. benham aside.
“can’t we adjust this difference, sir?” he asked; “there is a serious reason why they should not fight.”
benham stared at him coolly. “to be sure, so i supposed,” he drawled indifferently; “but savile will give you twenty reasons why they should.”
“for all that, we might adjust it honorably,” urged mackie, with feverish anxiety.
“pshaw, man, we can’t!” said benham, with contempt; “they’re both in love with the same woman. you are inexperienced, sir,” he added aloud, smiling scornfully. “measure the paces, sir edward; the sun is rising, and the advantage will lie then with the man whose back is toward it. we will draw lots, sir, so—ah, lord savile has drawn the best position,” and he laughed complacently.
young mackie, crimsoned with confusion and annoyance, made no further effort at a compromise; instead he busied himself with the weapons and in helping lord clancarty strip off coat and waistcoat. then the two men confronted each other, sword in hand, and[pg 124] as they did so the sun looked over the horizon and the meadow suddenly lay in a golden mist as the sparks flew from the steel.
this was the picture that betty saw floating in a golden haze, two strong, lithe figures swaying lightly from side to side and the flash of their naked swords at play.
“for shame!” she cried, thrusting their weapons aside with her own white hands, “for shame! so, there is no better cause for a fight than a song?”
at the sight of her the two men stepped back in sheer amazement, sinking their sword points in the ground at her feet.
“ay, shame on you both!” she cried with sparkling eyes; “’tis but a pretty fashion of murder—and i’ll none of it! put up your weapons, gentlemen, for he who draws his here is my friend no more!”
lord savile’s sword leaped into its sheath, but clancarty kissed the hilt of his and handed it to lady betty.
“madam, my honor is involved,” he said, “and i place it in your hands.”
the color rose in her cheeks and she turned on savile.
“my lord,” she said wilfully, “i heard it all, and ’tis you who should ask pardon.”
[pg 125]savile flushed darkly and folded his arms.
“my lady,” he said, “my sword is at your service, but you ask too much now.”
“ah, you will not trust me with your honor, my lord,” she retorted, with a little laugh.
“nay,” he replied testily, “a man may not grovel to his foe.”
“oh,” said lady betty, and she glanced at him archly, “is your reasoning quite sound, my lord?”
savile bit his lip; he saw lord clancarty smile and brush a fallen leaf from his sleeve with elaborate care.
“come, come,” interposed mr. benham, “let there be peace, since my lady wills it; and here, too, is young mackie pining to mediate. my lord, we cannot quarrel before a lady,” and he spoke a few words very low in savile’s ear.
betty, meanwhile, stood between them, holding clancarty’s sword in her hand; her tall young figure outlined in the heavenly morning sunshine, and the glory of the day in her eyes.
“to put up your sword is naught, my lord, unless there be peace,” she said, smiling ingenuously, “pshaw, what a petty quarrel! ’tis like two women over a cup of tea or a new[pg 126] gown,” and she shrugged her shoulders prettily.
lord savile crossed over to clancarty.
“your hand, sir,” he said, and then, as he clasped it, very low, “another time and another place.”
“i am always at your service,” replied clancarty with a scornful smile, and he took out his handkerchief and wiped the palm of his right hand.
the gesture made lady betty smile and bite her lip, though she had not heard the undertone.
“faith, the morning is so lovely that it augurs a peaceful day,” she said, with her sweetest manner. “gentlemen, you are all bidden to join my lady sunderland and me at eleven for a cup of chocolate before we go to the races.”
“who could refuse?” mr. benham said gallantly; “when men make peace for your sake, my lady, what would they not do?”
but lady betty’s quick eye caught the gloom on the boyish face of young mackie. she held out her hand.
“sir edward, you will take me home to the inn?” she said.
he colored like a girl and involuntarily glanced at lord clancarty; then catching his[pg 127] lordship’s falcon eye, he bowed in deep confusion.
“i’m only too happy, my lady,” he said.
she stood quite still, her bright eyes on lord savile and mr. benham. then she pointed with her finger toward the farther end of the field.
“yonder,” she said, “one combatant and his friend retire, and,” she turned quickly, pointing in the opposite direction, “yonder, the others go!”
clancarty laughed. “a safe device, my lady,” he said, “but i could not fight without my sword.”
she blushed prettily and held it out to him.
“i forgot, sir,” she said.
he took it gracefully, kissing the hand that gave it in spite of her quick frown of displeasure.
lord savile bowed profoundly, his hand on his heart.
“madam, i obey,” he said gallantly, and retreated with mr. benham in the direction she had chosen, and at the same time lord clancarty went in the other, leaving lady betty alone in the field with young mackie.
hovering in the distance was the muffled figure of alice, who had accompanied her[pg 128] mistress to the grove of limes and halted there, with her fingers in her ears, lest she should hear the clash of swords.
but lady betty saw her not, nor the glory of the day, nor the green of hedgerows and fields, nor the blooming daisy at her feet. her eyes followed the figure of clancarty, and there was a shadow on her face. she shivered and drew her cloak about her.
“come, sir edward,” she said, “we must run for it; i am a truant, and lord spencer will put me upon bread and water if he finds me upon such errands, and faith, sir, i deserve it!”
