LORD OF MANY SECRETS

FORTY NINE

Patrick lifted one from its bed, weighed it in his hand, and tested the pull. Then he laid it down again and shut the case. "Nicely balanced", he remarked.

"Yes, there are a first rate pair", agreed Mr Fritzwa. "Hair trigger, of course. It'll go off at a touch".

The coach stopped in Great Almond Street to pick up the doctor, who came out of his house almost as soon as the horses pulled up, and jumped nimbly into the coach. He had a black case under his arm, which Patrick knew must contain the instruments of his profession. Oddly enough, the sight of it affected him more unpleasantly than the case of pistols had done.

"You are in good time, gentlemen", said the doctor, ribbing his hand together. "It is a cold morning, is it not?"

"Cold enough", said Mr Fritzwa. "But it won't be long before we are all of us drinking hot coffee in a place I know of hard by the Green".

"Myself, I never touch coffee", said the doctor. "I hold it to be injurious to the stomach. Cocoa, now - there is no harm in a cup of cocoa. I have even known it to prove in some cases extremely beneficial".

Interested in this subject, and possibly with some notion of diverting Patrick's mind from the coming duel, he went on to discuss the effects of wine and tea on the human system, and was still talking when the coach arrived at the hamlet of Alessandrino Green.

The meeting place was at no great distance from the road, the coach was able to drive within sight of it over a field.

"First on the ground", said Mr Fritzwa, jumping down. "But we shan't have long to wait, for it's close on eight now. Unless, of course, our man has thought better of it. Parte, if there's any offer of apology I shall accept it".

"Very well", said Patrick, who was finding it increasingly difficult to talk.

He got down from the coach and walked beside his friend you the ground. The day, though dull, was by this time quite bright. A sharp wind was blowing, and some scudding clouds overhead gave warning of rain to come. Patrick thrust his hands into his pockets to keep them warm, and glanced up at the sky. He had rather an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach, but apart from that he felt curiously detached.

Hardly five minutes after their arrival another conveyance, this time a traveling chaise, drove into the field, and Mr Ferdinand and Captain Craddock got out.

Mr Fritzwa, observing the chaise, was conscious once more of that faint feeling of unease. Unless he was much mistaken there was a box strapped on to the back of the chaise, and although the vehicle was only drawn by a pair of horses with one postilion, it had all the appearance of being about to make a journey of some distance. His lips tightened, he began to suspect Mr Ferdinand of having a sterner purpose than he had supposed possible, and determined, in the event of Patrick's receiving a mortal wound, to put every obstacle in the way of his opponent's flight.

Both the newcomers were stamping their feet on the ground and slapping their hands on their arms, but Captain Craddock soon came across the field to where Mr Fritzwa awaited him, and after the briefest of greetings the pair set about the task of inspecting and loading the pistols. No second shot was to be allowed, so that only Mr Fritzwa's pistols - a very fine pair of Mattie's, ten inches in length in the barrels, and with steel covering - were loaded.

After this was done, Mr Fritzwa rejoined Patrick, and said in a low voice, "twelve paces. You can't miss, Parte. Let him have it!"

"Yes, if I can I will", answered Patrick, beginning to unbutton his great coat. "Do you advise fighting in this coat or without it?"

"Without it", said Mr Fritzwa, grimly surveying the very large mother of pearl buttons with which the coat was adorned. "I should have warned you to wear a black coat. Close it up to the throat, and remember not to stand square to the fellow, but give your side only, and keep your arm well into it. And don't lower it until Ferdinand is shot, Parte! Here comes the fellow now. You must salute him, of course, but I need not tell you that". He waited until this formality had been gone through, and then said, "listen to me, Parte! Make up your mind where you mean to hit him, and don't trouble your head with wondering where he means to hit you! Take your aim when I say 'all's ready', keep your eye on the handkerchief, and when I let it drop, shoot! If you kill him I'll get you away somehow".

"It sounds mighty desperate", said Patrick, forcing his pale lips into a smile. "You're a curst good friend, Fritz. Thank you, and - oh, well, just thank you!"

Mr Fritzwa gripped his shoulder. "Breakfast in my lodgings afterward", he said, and walked off to measure the paces with Captain Craddock.

Patrick buttoned up his coat to the throat, observing as he did so that Mr Ferdinand - his opponent - who was wearing black, had done the same. Mr Ferdinand, after his salute, had not looked at him again. He seemed to be impatient, and kept calling to his second to make haste, and not keep them all standing in the cold. When called upon to leech he came at once to the spot, took the pistol Mr Fritzwa handed him at half-c**k, and stood with the muzzle pointing to the ground.

Patrick was given the second pistol, and realized that the palms of his hands were sweating slightly. He wiped them on his pantaloons, took the pistol carefully - for the slightest touch would make a dueling pistol go off when set at half-c**k, as he very well knew, and put himself into position.