The profligate had been scared away by the sight of the `
plaguespot' on the neck of the
unfortunate lady.
The husband entered and found his way to his wife's chamber.
Instantaneous explanations ensued. `He told me you were false--
that you loved another--and had
abandoned me,' exclaimed the
frantic wife.
`He lied!' shouted Disbrowe, in a voice of uncontrollable fury.
`It is true that, in a moment of
frenzy, I was tempted to set
you--yes, _YOU_, Margaret--against all I had lost at play, and
was compelled to yield up the key of my house to the
winner. But
I have never been
faithless to you--never.'
`Faithless or not,' replied his wife
bitterly, `it is plain you
value me less than play, or you would not have acted thus.'
`Reproach me not, Margaret,' replied Disbrowe. `I would give
worlds to undo what I have done.'
`Who shall guard me against the recurrence of such conduct?' said
Mrs Disbrowe,
coldly. `But you have not yet informed me how I
was saved!'
Disbrowe averted his head.
`What mean you?' she cried, seizing his arm. `What has happened?
Do not keep me in
suspense? Were you my preserver?'
`Your preserver was the
plague,' rejoined Disbrowe, mournfully.
The
unfortunate lady then, for the first time, perceived that she
was attacked by the
pestilence, and a long and
dreadful pause
ensued, broken only by exclamations of
anguish from both.
`Disbrowe!' cried Margaret at length, raising herself in bed,
`you have deeply, irrecoverably injured me. But promise me one
thing.'
`I swear to do
whatever you may desire,' he replied.
`I know not, after what I have heard, whether you have courage
for the deed,' she continued. `But I would have you kill this
man.'
`I will do it,' replied Disbrowe.
`Nothing but his blood can wipe out the wrong he has done me,'
she rejoined. `Challenge him to a duel--a
mortal duel. If he
survives, by my soul, I will give myself to him.'
`Margaret!' exclaimed Disbrowe.
`I swear it,' she rejoined,' and you know my passionate
nature too well to doubt I will keep my word.'
`But you have the
plague!'
`What does that matter? I may recover.'
`Not so,' muttered Disbrowe. `If I fall, I will take care you do
not recover. . . . I will fight him to-morrow,' he added aloud.
About noon on the following day Disbrowe proceeded to the Smyrna
Coffee-house, where, as he expected, he found Parravicin and his
companions. The
knightinstantlyadvanced towards him, and
laying aside for the moment his
reckless air, inquired, with a
look of commiseration, after his wife.
`She is better,' replied Disbrowe,
fiercely. `I am come to
settle accounts with you.'
`I thought they were settled long ago,' returned Parravicin,
instantly resuming his wonted manner. `But I am glad to find you
consider the debt unpaid.'
Disbrowe lifted the cane he held in his hand, and struck the
knight with it
forcibly on the shoulder. `Be that my answer,' he
said.
`I will have your life first, and your wife afterwards,' replied
Parravicin
fiercely.
`You shall have her if you slay me, but not otherwise,'
retorted Disbrowe. `It must be a
mortal duel.'
`It must,' replied Parravicin. `I will not spare you this time.
I shall
instantly proceed to the west side of Hyde Park, beneath
the trees. I shall expect you there. On my return I shall call
on your wife.'
`I pray you do so, sir,' replied Disbrowe, disdainfully.
Both then quitted the Coffee-house, Parravicin attended by his
companions, and Disbrowe accompanied by a military friend, whom
he
accidentally encountered. Each party
taking a coach, they
soon reached the ground, a
retired spot completely screened from
observation by trees. The preliminaries were soon arranged, for
neither would admit of delay. The
conflict then commenced with
great fury on both sides; but Parravicin, in spite of his
passion, observed far more
caution than his
antagonist; and
takingadvantage of an
unguardedmovement, occasioned by the