The Amateur Gentleman
Page 97"As you say, the light is excellent, my dear Dalton," said he,
fixing Barnabas with his unwavering stare.
"But my dear Chit, you never mean to fight the fellow--a--a being
who wears such a coat! such boots! My dear fellow, be reasonable!
Observe that hat! Good Gad! Take your cane and whip him
out--positively you cannot fight this bumpkin."
"None the less I mean to shoot him--like a cur, Dalton." And Mr.
Chichester drew a pistol from his pocket, and fell to examining
flint and priming with a practised eye. "I should have preferred my
regular tools; but I dare say this will do the business well enough;
pray, snuff the candles."
Now, as Barnabas listened to the soft, deliberate words, as he noted
Mr. Chichester's assured air, his firm hand, his glowing eye and
quivering nostrils, a sudden deadly nausea came over him, and he
"Sirs," said he, uncertainly, and speaking with an effort, "I have
never used a pistol in my life."
"One could tell as much from his boots," murmured Mr. Dalton,
snuffing the candles.
"You have another pistol, I think, Dalton; pray lend it to him. We
will take opposite corners of the room, and fire when you give the
word."
"All quite useless, Chit; this fellow won't fight."
"No," said Barnabas, thrusting his trembling hands into his pockets,
"not--in a corner."
Mr. Chichester shrugged his shoulders, sat down, and leaning back in
his chair stared up at pale-faced Barnabas, tapping the table-edge
softly with the barrel of his weapon.
him out!"
"I mean," said Barnabas, very conscious of the betraying quaver in
his voice, "I mean that, as I'm--unused to--shooting, the corner
would be--too far."
"Too far? Oh, Gad!" exclaimed Mr. Dalton. "What's this?"
"As for pistols, I have one here," continued Barnabas, "and if we
must shoot, we'll do it here--across the table."
"Eh--what? Across the table! but, oh, Gad, Chichester! this is
madness!" said Mr. Dalton.
"Most duels are," said Barnabas, and as he spoke he drew from his
pocket the pistol he had taken from Mr. Chichester earlier in the
evening and, weapon in hand, sank into a chair, thus facing Mr.
Chichester across the table.
"Sir," said Barnabas, "I am no duellist, as I told you; and it seems
to me that this equalizes our chances, for I can no more fail of
hitting my man at this distance than he of shooting me dead across
the width of the room. And, sir--if I am to--die to-night, I shall
most earnestly endeavor to take Mr. Chichester with me."
There was a tremor in his voice again as he spoke, but his eye was
calm, his brow serene, and his hand steady as he cocked the pistol,
and leaning his elbow upon the table, levelled it within six inches
of Mr. Chichester's shirt frill. But hereupon Mr. Dalton sprang to
his feet with a stifled oath: "I tell you it's murder--murder!" he exclaimed, and took a quick
step towards them.