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Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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period of 70 years or less, after the year of the author's death.
If it is under copyright in your country of residence,
do not download or redistribute this file.
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SOME years ago there lived in the West of Ireland a certain Captain Fenton. This man had gained an unenviable notoriety in his own and the neighbouring counties as a successful duellist. Not only was he known to make the most trivial dispute a pretext for a challenge, but it was even reported that on more than one occasion he purposely provoked a quarrel. The meeting, in nearly every instance, ended disastrously for his opponent.
At that time there happened to be a line regiment station in the neighbouring town of Galway. Captain Fenton was on terms of intimacy with some of the officers, and, though far from being a general favourite, it not infrequently occurred that he dined at the mess on guest nights. But whenever he was present an air of restraint pervaded the assembly.
About six months after its arrival in Galway the regiment was joined by a junior subaltern. He was a mere lad, being still in his teens; yet by all accounts, he was a fine soldierly young fellow. He gave every promise of making a splendid officer, and a few weeks sufficed to establish him as a favourite.
But, alas, only a short time elapsed before he had the misfortune to fall foul of Captain Fenton! A challenge was given, and accepted. The affair was kept as secret as possible, and at the appointed time the meeting took place in the corner of a meadow about half a mile from the barracks.
Not much time was lost in preparations. The combatants were placed and the pistols loaded, and the seconds retired. The young officer stood with the full front of his body presented to his opponent. He was a novice in such affairs, poor boy. It is even said that at the precise moment of firing he involuntarily closed his eyes. If such was the case he never opened them again in this world! His adversary's ball passed right through his heart.
A stretcher was fetched from the barracks, and the corpse was conveyed thither without delay. The affair would, doubtless, have caused a profound sensation, but for obvious reasons those engaged in it were careful to let as few particulars as possible leak out.
But on the third day a startling change took place in the aspect of affairs. A young man, travel stained, pale and haggard, arrived in town. He proceeded at once to the barracks, and announced himself as a brother of the deceased. He was conducted to the room in which the body was laid. They say the scene which followed was of the most heartrending description. The stranger flung himself upon the corpse, and as he lay there his whole frame was shaken by convulsive sobs.
It quickly transpired that the brothers had been left orphans when mere lads. They were the only children of the family, and through boyhood had clung to each other, feeling that they were alone in the world. Their love was like that which bound David and Jonathan together. It can, therefore be scarcely conceived with what feelings of dismay the elder heard of the death of the younger.
When the first paroxysm of grief was over, the young man raised himself from the corpse. Then, in a voice half-choked by emotion, he uttered a solemn vow to take speedy vengeance upon his brother's slayer. With this object in view he retired from the apartment, and instantly despatched a challenge to Captain Fenton. The officers endeavoured to dissuade him from such a rash step, pointing out that, instead of avenging the slain, he was himself to fall a victim to his opponent's skill. But remonstrance was in vain. To one and all he replied, simply, "My brother is dead; I do not care to live."
Under these circumstances it seemed hopeless to prevent this second duel. Some, indeed, thought of appealing to Captain Fenton in order to persuade him, if possible, into refusing the challenge. But none were very eager to undertake such an unpleasant duty, especially as there appeared little likelihood of their efforts being crowned with success. Nevertheless, there was one who ventured upon the disagreeable task. This was an elderly gentleman, a Mr. Martin, who resided in the neighbourhood.
He was generally looked upon as a quiet, unassuming old gentleman, who never interfered in any other people's business. In fact, his one aim and object in life seemed to be the welfare of his flocks and herds. But in the present instance, having learned some particulars regarding the late tragedy, he determined, if possible, to prevent a repetition of the sad event. With this object in view he called upon Captain Fenton.
Though he had turned three-score years, Mr. Martin was still hale and hearty. Like the patriarch of old, "his eyes were not dim, nor his natural force abated." A beard of snowy whiteness descended from his weather-beaten countenance. His venerable appearance would, in all probability, have given considerable weight to his arguments had he to deal with one who respected grey hairs. But as it was Captain Fenton listened to him with ill-concealed contempt. In answer to the old man's remonstrance regarding the result of the recent duel, his reply invariably was that "it served the young cub right."
Mr. Martin entreated him to relinquish the intention of fighting the surviving brother. The intercession was so persistent that, as might have been anticipated, the captain lost his temper. Turning upon his visitor, he abruptly ordered him to leave the house—adding an offensive expression to the effect that "he would not allow an old bullock driver to interfere in his affairs of honour."
"Sir," returned Mr. Martin quietly, "you have insulted me."
"It seems so," replied the Captain.
"And," continued the old man, in the same calm tones, "I demand immediate satisfaction."
"With all my heart," responded Captain Fenton, laughing at the absurdity of the idea.
"Moreover, as you have been guilty of such ungentlemanly conduct," said Mr. Martin, "I insist that my claim shall have preference over all other engagements."
"Oh, certainly," replied the captain, with mock gravity. "To-morrow morning, if you wish it. I am engaged to meet the young fellow in whom you take a vast amount of interest in the corner of the big meadow at eight o'clock. Be there a little before that hour, but don't be late, for I want to dispose of both affairs and return here in time for breakfast."
"I shall be punctual," returned the old gentleman; and without saying more he left the house.
He was as good as his word. At 7.30 a.m. he was on the ground, attended by his second. Captain Fenton soon arrived, and later on the party was joined by the brother of the deceased subaltern, with whom was one of the officers from the barracks. It was fearful to behold the wild look which the young man fixed upon Captain Fenton. Not once during the preparations did his eyes wander from his brother's slayer. While the pistols were being loaded Mr. Martin's second whispered to him:
"Don't lose a moment when the signal is given. Aim low, it is your only chance."
"No," replied the old man loudly; "I shall strike him full in the head."
It is not known whether this speech reached his opponent's ears and in some measure disconcerted him. It is believed that the steady gaze of the young man who thirsted to avenge his brother's death was not without effect. Certain it is that Captain Fenton did not take his place with customary assurance.
The men were posted. The rest retired to a suitable distance, leaving the combatants steadily gazing at each other. A minute or two of terrible suspense followed, during which brief space the silence of death reigned over the spot. Then the signal was given, and almost instantaneously the two reports were heard. For a few seconds the smoke prevented the spectators from ascertaining the result, but as it slowly rose they saw old Mr. Martin standing erect and firm, while Captain Fenton was stretched full length upon the ground.
Both the seconds hastened towards their principals. The two men from the barracks also ran to Mr. Martin's side, and eagerly inquired if he was hurt. They found the old gentleman bleeding slightly at the neck, but he carelessly brushed the blood away with the back of his hand. Then turning with a kindly manner towards the youth, whom he had risked his life to save, he said simply:
"I don't think I had any other way of preventing this poor boy from sharing the fate of his brother."
Captain Fenton's second now advanced, and announced that the man was dead. The bullet had penetrated the left temple. He requested their assistance in removing the body. This they readily granted, but Mr. Martin and his young friend held aloof. As the others raised the dead man they noticed a peculiar hardness and stiffness about the body. On tearing open the garments of the deceased a cry of horror and rage broke from them. They found concealed beneath his clothing a tight-fitting coat of mail.
The cause of his having escaped uninjured in so many duels was now fully explained. He had evidently provided himself this defence from the old armoury which his mansion contained. Though doubtless not perfectly bullet-proof, yet in nine cases out of ten a ball was almost sure to glance off the network of steel.
Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
Go to Home Page
This work is out of copyright in countries with a copyright
period of 70 years or less, after the year of the author's death.
If it is under copyright in your country of residence,
do not download or redistribute this file.
Original content added by RGL (e.g., introductions, notes,
RGL covers) is proprietary and protected by copyright.