LORD OF MANY SECRETS

FORTY SEVEN

"Yes, I flatter myself it's uncommonly handsome", replied Patrick. He moistened his lips. "Fitz, I have suddenly remembered - do you know, I believe I have no dueling pistols by me?"

"Leave that to me, I'll see to it", said Mr Fritzwa, getting up. "I'm going now. I'll call for you at a quarter-past seven tomorrow".

Patrick smiled jauntily. "I shall be ready. Don't over sleep!"

"Never fear!" said Mr Fritzwa.

He let himself out of Patrick's bedroom and descended the stairs to the hall. Here he rather unfortunately met Miss Tellaro, who was dressed for the street, and had just come out of the breakfast parlor.

She looked a little surprised to see him so early in the morning, and glanced laughingly at the clock. "How do you do? Forgive me, but I did not think you were ever abroad until midday! As for Parte, he is a sad case. Did you find him in his bed?"

"No, no, he is up", Mr Fritzwa assured her. "I had a little business with him, nothing of importance, you know, but I thought I might call".

Miss Tellaro, who was holding a very pretty buhl snuff box in her left hand, flicked it open, and took a pinch with an elegant turn of her wrist. "I think it must have been important to bring you out before noon", she said.

Mr Fritzwa, watching her maneuvers with the snuff box in a good deal of astonishment, said, "oh no, just a trifling question of a horse he had a mind to purchase. But, Miss Tellaro - don't be offended - in the general way I don't like to see a lady talk snuff, but upon my word, you do it with such an air! It passes every thing!"

Miss Tellaro, who had spent a week in, practicing the art, was more than satisfied with the effect it had produced on her first audience.

Mrs Andromeda appearing at that moment at the head of the stairs, Mr Fritzwa took his leave, and went out of the house into the street. He paused for a moment on the steps, considering which surgeon he should engage, shook his head at a couple of chairmen who were signaling their readiness to carry him anywhere he pleased, and after staring abstractedly at a shabbily dressed lad who was lounging against the railings of an adjacent house, set off in the direction of Great Almond Street.

Arrived there, he ran up the steps of Dr Larry's establishment, knocked loudly on the door, and was soon admitted. He came out again presently with all the satisfied air of one who had successfully accomplished his task, called up a hackney, and drove back to Spear Street.

Half an hour later a tilbury drove up Great Almond Street, and stopped outside Dr Larry's house. A second gentleman knocked on the doctor's door, and was admitted. His visit lasted a little longer than Mr Fritzwa's, but when he at length emerged he, too, wore the look of one perfectly satisfied with the success of his mission.

Meanwhile Patrick, when Mr Fritzwa had left him, finished his toilet with less than his usual care, and tried not to think too much about the morrow. His thoughts, however, showed a disposition to creep back to it, and he found himself recalling all the fatal duels of which he had heard. Happily none of these was very recent. The only recent duels he could call to mind were the Duke of York's meeting with Colonel Lewis - which had taken place three years before his own birth, and Lord Casterley's late affair with Mr Connings. Neither of these meeting had proved fatal, but Patrick could not but acknowledge that there might have been a score of others between lesser persons of which he had never heard. An exchange of shots between himself and Ferdinand would, in all probability, and the quarrel, but the possibility of a more serious outcome had to be faced. With a sigh and a heavy heart Patrick went down to the saloon to compose a letter to his sister.

He was engaged on this difficult task when Mr Bartholomew Tellaro was shown into the room.

Patrick looked up with a start, and quickly concealed his letter under a blank sheet of paper. "Oh, it's you, is it? Good morning. Did you come to see me or Elizabeth? She's out, shopping with Mary, you know".

Mr Tellaro scrutinized him rather closely for a moment. He said, coming further into the room, "then I am unfortunate. She mentioned the other day that she had an ambition to see Madame Theresa's Waxworks, and I came to propose escorting her. But another morning will do as well. I am not interrupting you, I trust? You were busy, I think, when I came in".

"Oh, not in the least, it is of no particular moment", said Patrick, stretching out his hand to pull the bell. "You'll take a glass of wine, won't you?"

"Thank you, a little sherry, if I may".

The servant came, the order was given, and Patrick begged his cousin to be seated. Mr Tellaro began to talk on a number of idle topics. Patrick's replies were delivered in a mechanical way, it was plain that his thoughts were elsewhere. When the wine had been brought, and the servant had gone away again, Mr Tellaro said in his quiet voice, "forgive me, Parte, but has anything happened to put you out?"

Patrick disclaimed at once, and tried to start some other topic for conversation. His cousin's eyes were upon him, however, and he presently gave up the attempt to appear at his ease, and said with a jerky little laugh, "I see you have guessed it, my mind is occupied with another matter. I have certain disposition to make. Well, you are a good fellow, Bartholomew. I can trust you. The fact is I am engaged to meet Ferdinand tomorrow morning at - well, it's no matter where".

Mr Tellaro put down his wine glass. "Am I to understand an affair of honor? Surely, you cannot mean that!"