The Argosy, April 1912 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

8 with the same imperturbable calm, “the challenged man has choice of weapons and of all other arrangements for the combat.” “JT grant that,” I fumed. “But to sol- diers what possible weapon is there except the sword? And what time or place can be more suitable than this? The light is good, the floor smooth. Nevertheless, if you pre- fer other weapons and other arrangements, name them. I pledge myself to abide by them. All I demand is to fight you and to clear mine honor.” 3 “T claim the privilege of the challenged party,” said he gravely, “and I hold you to your pledge. Will you hear the terms?” I nodded assent, still full of fury, yet puzzled by his odd calmness. ‘“‘ At daybreak,” said Smith, “I and these people set sail for the Americas—for Vir- ginia.”’ “Tf you survive the duel,” I corrected grimly. “JT shall survive,” he replied. “It is a way Lhave. We sail with others—one hun- dred and five souls in all. tract of wilderness that stretches from the Atlantic to the Pacific oceans. No man knows just how far that may be. And it stretches from the French colony in New France—or Canada, as men now call it— to Spain’s province of Florida. A goodly land and large withal.” “T am here to fight,” I snapped. “Not to con a lesson in geography. What—” “In a moment,” he urged. ‘“ We purpose to sail thither in three tall ships, there to found a colony where Sir Walter Raleigh and the rest failed to establish one. We—” “T care not what you propose,” I inter- rupted. “The terms of the duel, man! Get to them!” “TI am getting to them,” he answered. “On the table yonder is a dice-box. That dice in that box shall be our weapons.” “What jest is this?” “No jest. Hear me out. be our weapons and—’”’ “T understand!” I cried. “I recall, now, that I once heard of the custom, in Italy. The two foes throw dice. The loser is pledged to stab himself to the heart. Let it be as you say. Though I shall have preferred the joy of actual battle.” “You go too fast,” Smith corrected me, as a little buzz of wonder ran through the group at my words. “I had not come yet tothe terms of the duel. Merely to the weapons. We shall throw dice, you and I. The dice shall Virginia is a THE ARGOSY. Should I lose, you shall have the privilege of carrying out your threat and shall strike me across the face, here in the presence of all my following. To receive such a blow, unresented, will disgrace me forever. Are you content?” In a thrice I saw how much keener than death would be the humiliation I might thus cause mine enemy. And my heart glowed. “T am content!” I exclaimed. if I lose?” “Tf you lose,” he drawled, “I shall not strike you, but you shall hold yourself pledged to cross the seas as one of our com- pany. Is it agreed?” “T have no wish to go to that barbarous land!” I protested. ‘And I,” he retorted, “have no wish to be stricken across the face and thus for- ever degraded before my people. Yet—” “Have done!” I broke in. “I accept! The chance of avenging mine honor on you is too strong to be missed.” The dice-box was brought. Smith and I seated ourselves at opposite sides of the table. The rest crowded eagerly about. And our strange duel began. A duel which was to affect the future of a whole continent. “ And CHAPTER IV. A STRANGE DUEL. Ir was an odd scene. The low, crowded room, with its smoky ceiling and flaring lamps; the blue reek of tobacco; the tense, excited faces of the adventurers who pressed close about the board. Smith and I, seated opposite each other, were outwardly the calmest men in the place. Our faces showed no sign of our inward thrill. Yet, each in his way, had as much as life itself at stake. Smith was evidently the master of this odd assortment of voyagers. And, from my own knowledge of men, I foresaw how utterly he would lose his hold over the nondescript adventurers if once it were known that he had meekly consented to receive a blow in the face. For, in those rough days, an unresented blow was a lasting and irredeemable dis- grace to its bearer; no matter what the oc- casion of its receiving. Such a victim was forever looked down on and scoffed at by his fellows. © Ghook