Puck — July 9, 1879 — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

PUCK. 283 Bass’s Bitter and the ladies. But excuse me— shall I break, or you?” “Tr’s all the same; break away. A hundred up?” “All right.” So they began, and although Macleod was an excellent player—better indeed than his opponent—he was in too irritable a mood to Phy well, and the Doctor won easily. “ Confound it,” cried his opponent, as Bob ran out the game with a nice break, the open- ing one of which was a fluke, ‘‘ you have all the luck on your side. Let's have another.” “T would let you have your revenge with pleasure,” replied the Doctor, “but I really feel so fagged after the day's outing that I'd rather be excused. But there’s Mr. Campbell, who can beat me hollow.” “ Thank you, but I prefer playing with gen- Wemen, replied the angry chief, laying signifi- cant emphasis on “ gentlemen,” as he looked towards Archie. There could be no misunderstanding the tone and look; the reference was unmistakable, and Campbell paled slightly as he slowly rose from his seat and quietly said: “ Might I trouble you to repeat that observa- tion?” Macleod scowled in his face, and as he curled his lip contemptuously, repeated slowly, dis- tinctly and word by word: “T prefer playing with gentlemen.” “‘ Macleod—Campbell,” here interposed the alarmed Professor, making a move to step be- tween them, but Archie, with a grim smile, quietly shoved him back. “Excuse me, Professor Macdonald, but this is my affair. Don’t be alarmed; your gallant cousin has only made some slight mistake, which he will doubtless explain.” “Damn explanations!" cried Macleod. “ There was no mistake. A Macleod. always says what he means.” “‘ What did you mean then, Captain Mac- leod?” persisted Archie, tossing: his cigar away. “Mean? Not much!" was the savage re- tort, “only this, that before I play with any one, or associate with any one, I preferto know the name of the person whom I honor with my acquaintance.”” Still Archie preserved his temper. He did not wish to have any quarrel under that roof— least of all in his present position. Macleod’s sneer, however, touched him to the quick. “How the deuce,” he thought, “ has he dis- covered it?” The Professor and Doctor, too, exchanged a quick look of surprise, and the former again tried to interpose, but Archie again held him back gently but firmly. “Gentlemen!” cried Kenneth in tones of en- treaty. “ Gentlemen!" sneered Macleod, now quite beside himself with passion. “Youare strangely liberal with your plurals.” At Macleod’s words, and more at the tone in which they were said than the words them- selves, Archie’s face flushed angrily and then turned a deadly pale, but the tell-tale flush they knew so well warned Kenneth and the Doctor that his temper was getting the better of him. But all he said, and in the gentlest tone of voice and with a smile, was: “Pray explain yourself, Captain Macleod; you must refer to some one outside this com- pany.” ; Exasperated by his apparent coolness, and mad with accumulated chagrin, rage and drink, for that last brandy on the head of so much wine previously had gone to his brain, Macleod shook his fist in his face as he hissed: “T refer to you, sir, and you know it; a beg- arly adventurer who steals into a gentleman's eae under a false name, and—" “Colin—Archie!” cried Kenneth rushing forward, but it was too late. Straight as an arrow from the bow; certain as the stroke of a piston; with all the lightning- like directness and force which had made him famous in athletic circles at Eton and Glasgow —Archie's left arm went out straight from the shoulder, and the next moment Macleod of Alline lay stretched upon the floor. * . * ‘Good God, Archie, what have you done?” cried Kenneth and the Doctor simultaneously. But Archie only said: “Sorry that I lost my temper—by the way, Doctor, I'll trouble you for a fresh cigar—but the cur deserved it.” “He is my cousin, Gascoyne,” said the Pro- fessor angrily but with dignity, and uncon- sciously calling his friend by his right name. You forget yourself.” “Forgive me, old boy, so I do. After all it is my own fault. I had no right to dis- guise my name, and I'll apologize to your cou- sin and make it right.” By this time Macleod, with the Doctor's help, had regained his feet. The blow had stunned him for the moment, but now that he was himself again he made a rush towards Campbell. But Kenneth and the Doctor held him back, “Colin, man, hear me,” hastily cried his cousin; “Campbell is sorry for what he has done and wishes to apologize.” “Damn his apologies,” retorted Macleod fiercely. ‘If he is a man, he will give me the only satisfaction a gentleman can receive.” “‘Tush, tush, man,” persisted Kenneth. “Those days are gone. I tell you Campbell wishes to apologize to you. Will you at least hear what he has to say? Come now, for my sake, Colin, do,” “Let the fellow speak,” growled Macleod insolently. But Archie had now completely recovered his temper, and felt really ashamed of himself; so it was with a grave expression of mingled dignity and penitence that he approached Macleod and said: ‘Captain Macleod, I am very sorry for what Ihave done; I owe you both an apology and an explanation, and if you do not find these satisfactory, I shall be glad to give you any other satisfaction you may demand. If you will do me the honor of smoking a cigar on the lawn, we shall be more alone.” Macleod hesitated for a moment, but there was no mistaking the genuine sincerity of Ar- chie’s face and voice—his evident anxiety to make amends of some kind, and his transpa- rent frankness, and the Captain felt irrresisti- bly impelled to accept the invitation. So with a stiff bow he said: “Tam at your service.” So, while the Professor and Doctor looked at each other in dumb and doubtful surprise, the two-young men passed out through the hall and on to the lawn. “ Have a fresh cigar?” said Archie. “No, thank you; I await your explanation,” replied Macleod haughtily. “You will not have long to wait. Frankly then, Captain Macleod, I have committed a grave mistake. Campbell és my name and it ts not; Kenneth could have told you all had not his lips been sealed. My-real name is Ar- chibald Campbell Gascoyne, son of Sir Alex- ander Gascoyne, of Edinhall, at your service, and in telling you so much I trust to your honor not to repeat it.”” “Gascoyne! son of Sir Alexander, of Edin- hall! Great heavens! Then why this masque- rading here?” “ Well, I owe you a debt. I had rather not tell you all, but since you will have it, 1 had better make a clean breast of it. Besides, you are a Macleod. But take a fresh cigar, and let’s sit down, for the story can hardly be told in a sentence.” “Thanks,” said Macleod, “as yet I prefer to stand.” But all the same he took the proffered cigar, and as briefly as possible Archie told his story. “And now,” when he had finished, “are you satisfied?” “My dear boy,” cried the other in, Archie's hand—all his native generonity and goodness of heart roused into activity by what he had heard, “say no more. I'm so glad to meet you—knew your father years ago—al- though, to be honest, I’m deuced sorry that our meeting place is where it is; you will know why, But now that J know all I bear no grudge. Let us both go in, and may the best man win, with this stipulation that the loser be the winner’s groomsman.” “Agreed,” cried Archie, “you're a right good fellow, Macleod; but is it not time we rejoined the ladies? Jupiter”—looking at his watch—‘what a time we have been! it is well on to eleven—they’ll have gone to bed.” “Not a bit of it,” replied his friend as they re-entered the hall, “but, I say, Gascoyne—" “Campbell, Captain, Campbell.” “Confound my stupidity; of course. then, Campbell be it and—what was I going tosay? Oh yes, I remember, and if I didn’t my poor head would remind me; what a devil, you are to hit! Why, Hercules wasn't a patch on you. Had my head not been as hard as a nigger’s I couldn't have shown face for a week or two. As it is I feel sort of queer.” “T'm awfully sorry—” “Not another word; perhaps I can give you a lesson in deer-stalking.” “Oh, by the way, Captain, if it isn’t an un- fair question, might I ask how you discovered that my name is not really Campbell?” “Certainly; this evening after dinner I re- ceived this note. Had I not taken too much wine, and been otherwise excited I should have treated the communication, it being an- nonymous, with contempt. As it is I apolo- gize.” “Strange,” murmured Archie, as he scanned the note, “the handwriting is unfamiliar. Who the deuce can there be in Skye that knows me, except Kenneth, the Doctor and yourself; and above all whom can I have offended? I was unaware I had a single acquaintance, much less an enemy, in Invernesshire, But I'll show it to the Doctor and Kenneth; they may be able to unravel the mystery. Only, if they do, then, Mr. or Miss Anonymous Correspondent, look out! for by the blood of all the Gascoynes it will be the worse for you.” And so, chatting familiarly, the two rivals re-entered the billiard room arm in arm, greatly to the surprise of the Professor and Doctor who were anxiously awaiting their return, * 2 * “Why,” .whispered the Doctor, as he and Archie retired for the night, “I'm a disap- pointed man.” “* How so?” said Archie. “Oh, I thought—I moight say I hoped—it" was pistols for two and coffee for one, but I was mistaken,” replied Bob, with an air of comical abjectness and melancholy character- istically Hibernian, ‘‘ Begorrah and the times are going to the divil entoirely.” “So they are, Bob; and meanwhile you and I will goto bed. As for Macleod, he’s a regular brick, and the man who says a word to the contrary must count on me for a foe.”” “The divil he must! and what about Miss—”” “Not another word;"—interrupted Archie sharply— you have had too much wine.” “ And that’s not true,” retorted Bob with a grin. ‘Sure and it was brandy.” Well, comicbooks.com