Cashel Byron's Profession

Cashel's pupils frequently requested him to hit them hard--not to

play with them--to accustom them to regular, right down, severe

hitting, and no nonsense. He only pretended to comply; for he knew

that a black eye or loosened tooth would be immoderately boasted of

if received in combat with a famous pugilist, and that the

sufferer's friends would make private notes to avoid so rough a

professor. But when Miss Carew's note reached him he made an

exception to his practice in this respect. A young guardsman, whose

lesson began shortly after the post arrived, remarked that Cashel

was unusually distraught. He therefore exhorted his instructor to

wake up and pitch into him in earnest. Immediately he received a

blow in the epigastrium that stretched him almost insensible on the

floor. Rising with his complexion considerably whitened, he

recollected an appointment which would prevent him from finishing

his lesson, and withdrew, declaring in a somewhat shaky voice that

that was the sort of bout he really enjoyed.

Cashel did not at first make any profitable use of the leisure thus

earned. He walked to and fro, cursing, and occasionally stopping to

read the letter. His restlessness only increased his agitation. The

arrival of a Frenchman whom he employed to give lessons in fencing

made the place unendurable to him. He changed his attire, went out,

called a cab, and bade the driver, with an oath, drive to Lydia's

house as fast as the horse could go. The man made all the haste he

could, and was presently told impatiently that there was no hurry.

Accustomed to this sort of inconsistency, he was not surprised when,

as they approached the house, he was told not to stop but to drive

slowly past. Then, in obedience to further instructions, he turned

and repassed the door. As he did so a lady appeared for an instant

at a window. Immediately his fare, with a groan of mingled rage and

fear, sprang from the moving vehicle, rushed up the steps of the

mansion, and rang the bell violently. Bashville, faultlessly dressed

and impassibly mannered, opened the door. In reply to Cashel's

half-inarticulate inquiry, he said, "Miss Carew is not at home."

"You lie," said Cashel, his eyes suddenly dilating. "I saw her."

Bashville reddened, but replied, coolly, "Miss Carew cannot see you

to-day."

"Go and ask her," returned Cashel sternly, advancing.

Bashville, with compressed lips, seized the door to shut him out;

but Cashel forced it back against him, sent him reeling some paces

by its impact, went in, and shut the door behind him. He had to turn

from Bashville for a moment to do this, and before he could face him

again he was clutched, tripped, and flung down upon the tessellated

pavement of the hall.