Mons. Jourdain. Etes-vous fou de l’aller quereller’ lui qui entend la tierce et la quarte, et qui sait tuer un homme par raison demonstrative?
Le Maitre a Danser. Je me moque de sa raison demonstrative, et de sa tierce et de sa quarte.—Moliere.
“Hollo, my good friend; how are you?—d—d glad to see you in England,” vociferated a loud, clear, good-humoured voice, one cold morning, as I was shivering down Brook-street, into Bond-street. I turned, and beheld Lord Dartmore, of Rocher de Cancale memory. I returned his greeting with the same cordiality with which it was given: and I was forthwith saddled with Dartmore’s arm, and dragged up Bond-street, into that borough of all noisy, riotous, unrefined, good fellows—yclept—‘s Hotel.
Here we were soon plunged into a small, low apartment, which Dartmore informed me was his room. It was crowded with a score of masculine looking youths, at whose very appearance my gentler frame shuddered from head to foot. However, I put as good a face on the matter as I possibly could, and affected a freedom and frankness of manner, correspondent with the unsophisticated tempers with which I was so unexpectedly brought into contact.
Dartmore was still gloriously redolent of Oxford: his companions were all extracts from Christchurch; and his favourite occupations were boxing and hunting—scenes at the Fives’ Court—nights in the Cider Cellar—and mornings at Bowstreet. Figure to yourself a fitter companion for the hero and writer of these adventures! The table was covered with boxing gloves, single sticks, two ponderous pair of dumb bells, a large pewter pot of porter, and four foils; one snapped in the middle.
“Well,” cried Dartmore, to two strapping youths, with their coats off, “which was the conqueror?”
“Oh, it is not yet decided,” was the answer; and forthwith the bigger one hit the lesser a blow, with his boxing glove, heavy enough to have felled Ulysses, who, if I recollect aright, was rather ‘a game blood’ in such encounters.
This slight salute was forthwith the prelude to an encounter, which the whole train crowded round to witness. I, among the rest, pretending an equal ardour, and an equal interest, and hiding, like many persons in a similar predicament, a most trembling spirit beneath a most valorous exterior.
When the match (which terminated in favour of the lesser champion) was over, “Come, Pelham,” said Dartmore, “let me take up the gloves with you?”
“You are too good!” said I, for the first time using my drawing-room drawl. A wink and a grin went round the room.
“Well, then, will you fence with Staunton, or play at single sticks with me?” said the short, thick, bullying, impudent, vulgar Earl of Calton.
“Why,” answered I, “I am a poor hand at the foils, and a still worse at the sticks; but I have no objection to exchange a cut or two at the latter with Lord Calton.”
“No, no!” said the good-natured Dartmore;—“no, Calton is the best stick-player I ever knew;” and then, whispering me, he added, “and the hardest hitter—and he never spares, either.”
“Really,” said I aloud, in my most affected tone, “it is a great pity, for I am excessively delicate; but as I said I would engage him, I don’t like to retract. Pray let me look at the hilt: I hope the basket is strong: I would not have my knuckles rapped for the world—now for it. I’m in a deuced fright, Dartmore;” and so saying, and inwardly chuckling at the universal pleasure depicted in the countenances of Calton and the by-standers, who were all rejoiced at the idea of the “dandy being drubbed,” I took the stick, and pretended great awkwardness, and lack of grace in the position I chose.
Calton placed himself in the most scientific attitude, assuming at the same time an air of hauteur and nonchalance, which seemed to call for the admiration it met.
“Do we make hard hitting?” said I.
“Oh! by all means,” answered Calton, eagerly.
“Well,” said I, settling on my own chapeau, “had not you better put on your hat?”
“Oh, no,” answered Calton, imperiously; “I can take pretty good care of my head;” and with these words we commenced.
I remained at first nearly upright, not availing myself in the least of my superiority in height, and only acting on the defensive. Calton played well enough for a gentleman; but he was no match for one who had, at the age of thirteen, beat the Life Guardsmen at Angelo’s. Suddenly, when I had excited a general laugh at the clumsy success with which I warded off a most rapid attack of Calton’s, I changed my position, and keeping Calton at arm’s length till I had driven him towards a corner, I took advantage of a haughty imprudence on his part, and by a common enough move in the game, drew back from a stroke aimed at my limbs, and suffered the whole weight of my weapon to fall so heavily upon his head, that I felled him to the ground in an instant.
I was sorry for the severity of the stroke, the moment after it was inflicted; but never was punishment more deserved. We picked up the discomfited hero, and placed him on a chair to recover his senses; meanwhile I received the congratulations of the conclave with a frank alteration of manner which delighted them; and I found it impossible to get away, till I had promised to dine with Dartmore, and spend the rest of the evening in the society of his friends.
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