University of Virginia Library

29. CHAPTER XXIX.
THE FIELD OF HONOUR.

When Tim and Timothy arrived at the mayor's office,
the court had risen. The last offender had been disposed
of, and the chief magistrate of the city was enjoying his
ease and comfort at home, surrounded by his family. So
the two countrymen were directed to go to some magistrate
of lesser magnitude, and have warrants issued for the arrest
of the parties.

It was a long search; not that such functionaries were
scarce, but from the multiplicity of signs and names about
the doors. At length they found themselves in the presence
of a corpulent, red-faced justice of the peace, who
frowned and elevated his brows alternately, and sat in his
great chair as proudly as a king on his throne.

“What do you want?” he asked, fiercely.

“We want you to hender two men from fighting,” said
Timothy.

“I never did such a thing in my life!” said the justice.
“But after they fight, I'll make them pay for it. You'd
better watch them, and be witnesses. Who are they?”

“Ned Lorn and Mr. Job Mallex,” said Tim.

“Mr. Mallex, the great rich man?”

“Yes.”

“He can pay. Watch him well. Be sure and see who
strikes the first blow.”

“It's a duel,” said Tim; “they're going to fight with
pistols.”

“What? A duel? I never, in all my experience, had
a case of that sort before me, and I must look at the law
on the subject. Sit down.”

The justice adjusted his spectacles, turned to his books,

over which he pored for more than a quarter of an hour,
while the two Tims sat upon the thorns of impatience, fearing
that before justice would get upon the track of the
offenders the offence itself might be committed.

“Where are they going to fight?” interrogated the
justice, after a calm perusal of the page.

“Over in Jersey, I'm dead sure,” said Timothy, “for
they daren't do it in the state where they live.”

“But Ned lives in Jersey,” said Tim.

“Maybe it isn't Ned, but that other one, Mr. Persevere,
who's a-going to fight,” said Timothy.

“Mr. Persever, the lawyer?” asked the justice.

“Yes, sir,” said Tim. “It's either him or Ned Lorn,
we don't know which.”

The two or three constables and policemen present,
laughed at the simplicity of the countryman.

“You don't know which?” exclaimed the justice.
“Then why do you come here? A pretty wild goose
chase, truly! You don't know who's going to fight; you
don't know where they are going to fight; and yet you
come to me to stop the fight! Ridiculous! You had better
go about your business, and mind your own business. Mr.
Persever is one of the most promising lawyers in the city,
and is the last man in it to break the law upon which he
lives.”

“And—and you live, don't you, by the breaking of the
peace?” Timothy ventured to ask.

“But I don't break it, you dunce! I mend it, sir.”

“But it's like our tin boiler,” said Timothy, his great
red face smiling merrily, and his faultless teeth displayed.

“How's that?”

“We have the tinkers at it every now and then, but it
will leak in spite of 'em.”

“Aint that disrespectful to us?” asked the justice, turning
to one of his runners.

“If he means your honour for the tinker.”

“But I don't,” said Timothy. “I mean the peace is
like the leaks in the old boiler.”

“But, my goodness!” said Tim, rising, “they may be
killing one another now! can't you do nothing, sir?”

“Nothing, if they are out of this state. My jurisdiction

is confined within the limits of Pennsylvania. If they
are over the river, I can't reach them; I cannot extend my
arms that far.” This produced a smile in the court.

“But can't you stop 'em from going over there to fight?”
asked Tim, desperately.

“Now you are getting on to the right track!” said the
justice. “If you will make an affidavit that you have
reason to believe the parties named are about leaving the
state for the purpose of fighting a duel, I'll issue a warrant
for their arrest.”

“We'll do it,” cried both the Tims.

“Very well. What's your name, sir?”

“Tim Trudge.”

“I'll put it Timothy. That's your proper name, I'll
warrant. Your name, sir?” he continued, turning to Tim's
companion.

“Timothy.”

“I hope you are not making a fool of me!” said the
functionary, lifting his eyes, his face glowing with an intenser
redness than usual. “Such a thing is unprecedented
in my experience. Two men on the same side with the
same name. I warn you! There is a penalty for contempt
of court. Well! What's your other name?”

“Hay.”

“That is, Timothy Hay. What business do you follow?”

“Farming.”

“Mr. Timothy Hay, if you impose on me, the court will
mow you down! You'll be cured, sir!”

“I tell the truth, your honour, and aint afraid to do my
duty,” was the honest response.

“Very well. Do you take them along, Mr. Grabb, and
if the parties you are to arrest with this document had no
intention to fight, and don't desire to fight, then bring
these meddling gentlemen back to me.”

“Yes, sir. But hadn't Mr. Barb better go with me?
This Timothy Hay would be a stout customer in a tussel.”

“Go with him, Barb,” said the justice.

The four left the presence of the man of peace, and
proceeded directly to the counting house of Mallex and
Bainton, where they found some half a dozen clerks busy

with their pens, but not the head of the concern. Nor
could they give the Dogberries any information as to the
place where they would be likely to find their principal.
They only laughed incredulously when informed that their
employer was on the eve of fighting a duel. They were
profoundly ignorant of the real character of their master,
and had always supposed that inasmuch as the senior of
the employees, Mr. Fawner, was an example of piety, and
the most trusted of all the clerks, the respected head of the
house must be a moral, law-abiding, conservative citizen.

Our party next visited the banker's mansion in —
street. It was closed, and the only response they had to
the ringing of the bell, was the deep, fierce barking of a
bull-dog in the side yard, which clanked his chain at every
utterance in his endeavours to get at them.

Then they directed their steps towards the office of the
lawyer, knowing, as Tim expressed it, that if they could
only secure Ned, he couldn't be shot, even if Mallex escaped
them.

At the lawyer's office they found nobody but a stupid
Irish girl who was scrubbing the floor, and one or two
patient clients awaiting the return of Persever. When
that event might happen, the scrubbing girl could not inform
them. It might be the next minute; it might be
longer.

“Didn't you see 'em go out?” asked Tim.

“Faith, and I did.”

“Had they any pistols?”

“Pisthols?” iterated the girl, with dilated eyes.

“Yes, in a case.”

“Not that I knows. They fetched a case, but wasn't it
a law case?”

“How long ago was it?” demanded Grabb.

“Och, and it was about the time the sun was fernenst
this crack in the floor, where I was cleaning up the tobacco
spit, curses on the blackguards who did it!”

“We'll learn nothing from her. Let us go down to the
river,” said Barb.

Away they went towards the wharves. And after many
fruitless inquiries, they at last espied both parties on the
same boat, the Dido. Ned and Persever stood on the extreme

end of the boat, while Mallex and Fawner sat in an
open carriage.

But just as the pursuing party reached the platform, the
chains fell, and the boat's wheels began to revolve.

“Stop her!” cried Timothy, in a stentorian voice, when
Tim pointed out the duellists.

“Stop! I arrest the boat!” cried Barb, who was a new
officer, and had been sworn in that morning.

“Arrest your granny!” said one of the ferrymen, who
remained on the platform.

“Yes, I do!”

“Then why don't you stop her?”

“She shall pay for it!” continued the new functionary,
seeing the boat running out into the current with a perfect
disregard of his cries and menaces.”

“It's no use,” said Grabb.

“Not a bit,” said the ferryman.

“Let's go after 'em in another boat!” said Tim, leading
the way to the next wharf.

“It's no use,” continued the ferryman. The Dido can't
be caught by any other craft in these waters.”

“This way, gentlemen, if you're going to New York,”
said Captain Searles.

“Go to grass!” said Timothy.

“I thought you were gentlemen, travelling,” said the
captain, bowing sideways.

The Timothys and the policemen, the latter in their
great excitement forgetting they had no authority to act
under the warrant they bore beyond the limits of the state,
rushed on board the first boat they came to that was ready
to go over the river. By this time the Dido was entering
the canal cut through the island. But our party were soon
upon her track, and had no doubt they would catch the
fugitives in Camden. When they entered the canal, however,
they were delighted to find they were gaining rapidly
on the Dido. No wonder, for she was aground. The
Tims gave vent to a feeling of exultation, and drew the
policemen to the forward part of the boat, with the intention
of boarding the Dido when the vessels came together.
Unfortunately, when the old State Rights, upon which
they were crossing, approached within a few paces of the

Dido, the swell of the water floated off the latter, and she
went bounding on her way. Then, in turn, the State
Rights got aground, and did not succeed in getting off
until the Dido reached her wharf.

Mallex and Fawner bowed in the most approved manner
to Persever and his second as they passed out of the boat.
The carriage in which the former sat was driven slowly
out on the Haddonfield road, while the others followed on
foot, having omitted hiring a carriage. They attracted
no attention, no suspicion whatever, on the part of the
citizens, and everything seemed in a fair way of being
smoothly and quietly accomplished to their entire satisfaction.

The first grove they came to which offered a shelter and
place of comparative seclusion, was not more than a mile
distant. Here they halted, and measured the ground.
The distance was ten paces.

Fawner exhibited his admirable skill. They were to
fire in a line with a fence running east and west which was
the boundary between the different owners of the land, and
the choice of positions was won for Mallex. The opposite
party had never been engaged in such a business before,
and were perfect novices. Of course Fawner placed his
principal at the west end of the line with the sun on his
back and in the faces of the other party. A few minutes
more, without interruption, and the affair would have been
over.

But the Tims and the Dogberrys were not idle. Their
excitement and vociferations drew a crowd about them in
the bustling village; and when they made their object
known, and described the parties they were in pursuit of,
who had been seen so recently to pass from the boat, a
general hue and cry ensued, and more than twenty men
and boys, besides a number of dogs, joined in the pursuit,
and they were actually in sight of the duellists when they
entered the grove. So great was the tumult made by the
pursuers, that every animal in the pastures fled before
them. Cows, sheep, horses and asses, bounded over the
earth in dire affright; and all seemed to take the direction
of the duellists. Of the men, the Tims were in the foremost
rank, being hardy farmers and accustomed to active

exercise in the field. The dogs barked, the cows lowed,
the horses neighed, the geese gabbled and the asses brayed.
One of the latter, a famous jack from the south, leaped
over the fence which had separated him from the rest, and
headed the flying drove, braying loudly at every leap.

It was just when the word was about to be given by
Fawner, who had won everything with the two-faced coin
his principal had furnished him, that the gigantic jackass
sprang upon the ground in their midst and ran over the
infuriated banker. The corpulent combatant lay sprawling
in the dust, lamed and bruised from the mad blows of
the vile beast's hoofs.

As soon as Ned could perceive through the dust and the
no less blinding effects of the horizontal rays of the sun,
the posture of Mallex, he advanced towards the prostrate
man to ascertain what might be the effect of the unlooked-for
interruption.

Meantime the astonished animal, still braying vociferously,
diverged to the right, and issued from the grove,
followed by the whole army of quadrupeds, just when
the two Tims entered it; and the rest of the pursuing
bipeds followed the ass into the next grove, never supposing
that they were turning away from the duellists, and
much less that one of them had fallen.

The Tims reached the wounded man, who was endeavouring
to rise, assisted by Fawner, just when Ned came up.

“Oh, Ned, I've got you!” cried Tim, throwing his arms
around our hero, lifting him up, and striving to bear him
away from the place, as he had done some years before,
when Ned was but a child.

“Nonsense, Tim! Unhand me, sir!”

“I won't, by jingo! You shan't fight. He shall kill
me first. It'll run Susan distracted!”

“I am not here to fight. Mr. Persever is the one who
came hither for that purpose. Now release me, or I shall
be angry!”

Tim did as he requested, but reluctantly; and they both
turned towards Mallex.

“Help me lift him,” said Fawner, addressing Timothy.

“Is he killed? I'll do it if he's a dead man,” said the
farmer.

“Friend, if I were dead, I would not need your assistance!”
said Mallex, with difficulty, and in great pain.

“And from what I've larned about your wicked doings,
you don't desarve it while you're alive.”

“Help me!” repeated Fawner. “You see I am old
and weak. His ancle is twisted and he can't walk.”

“Is he shot in the ancle? is that all?”

“No! no! The jackass ran over him. There has been
no shooting.”

“Ha! ha! ha! I believe it must've been some kin to
my brother's jack,” said Timothy. “My brother Thistle
Hay, who lives in Maryland, near Bladensburg, used to
have a jack that ran at everybody who carried a pistol.
He knocked old Col. Vanderbomb down once; and Thistle
says more than a dozen great men have been run over on
the field of honour by jackasses?”

“I do not want your aid, sir!” said the suffering man,
seeing Ned approach.

Ned turned away in silence, and rejoined his principal,
to whom he conveyed the intelligence that the affair had,
in all probability, reached a termination for the present.

The good nature of Timothy was at length roused by
the appeals of Fawner. It may have been pity for the
poor old debilitated clerk, rather than sympathy for the
fallen banker. He assisted in bearing the suffering man
to his carriage, where he desired to be taken.

“What is your name?” asked Mallex, turning to the
countryman, when lifted into his vehicle.

“Timothy,” said he, showing his faultless array of teeth,
as he always did when his name was asked.

“Timothy what?”

“Timothy Hay.”

“Mr. Hay,” continued Mallex, “the observation made
by your brother at Bladensburg, had much truth in it.
On the field of honour a giant in intellect is liable to be
prostrated by a jackass. Fawner, say to the asses waiting
yonder that I'm going home. When I desire to meet
them again, I shall let them know it. Tell them, if they
are wise, they will not refer to the manner of my overthrow.
If Persever says an ass did it, the people will examine
his ears.”

Fawner did his principal's bidding; and then taking the
reins, he turned towards the ferry, and drove rapidly. In
the street, and on the boat, many curious eyes were directed
towards the half recumbent banker, whose groans and
contortions warranted the belief that he had been wounded.
When the boat reached the wharf at the foot of Walnut
street, and the carriage entered the city, Fawner, in obedience
to the wounded man's order, drove directly to Dr.
Castor's office, where a message was left on the slate. Then
without delay, they whipped out of the city, and never
paused until they were under the shelter of the banker's
country house.

The ancle of Mallex was not dislocated, for he was able
to drag himself up to the library without the assistance of
Fawner. From the expression of his eyes, his dishevelled
hair, his attitude and gestures, when propped up by cushions,
one might have concluded that he had been more severely
wounded in his feelings than corporeally by the heels
of the ass.

And poor old Fawner sat humiliated and disconsolate at
his side. He regretted that the affair should have found so
ridiculous a termination; that it had been necessary to appeal
to arms at all; and, above all, that he had been constrained
to participate on so painful an occasion. Such
were the silent and incoherent reflections of the second,
while the principal was growling out deep and bitter curses.

“No matter!” at length exclaimed the demagogue, placing
his foot upon a number of letters and addresses from
members of the nominating convention. “Cheer up, my
friend, although overthrown by an ass, I shall triumph
over human opposition. All the curious interrogators
will be answered when it is whispered that I have had a
meeting with my calumniator; and I shall have the sympathy
of the constituency when it is surmised from the
visits of the doctor, who shall come daily to see me until
the convention meets, that I have been wounded on the
field of honour.

“I hope so, sir,” said Fawner, lugubriously; “and if it
should meet your approbation, sir, it would be a great gratification
to me if it were not known that I had any part

in the transaction. We have a censorious and back-biting
congregation, sir,—”

“Pooh, Fawner, no one will ever suspect you!” exclaimed
Mallex, with a faint smile. “I employed you because
I knew no one would ever suppose it possible for such a person
to act in such a capacity. No doubt some of my enemies
in the district would prosecute me for sending a challenge,
if they could procure the requisite evidence to convict me.
They will never summon you as a witness. My mind comprehended
everything—but the inconceivable interlude of
the ass—before my plan was put in execution. Rouse up,
man! If I go to Congress, that will be only one step. I
will ascend higher, and you shall share the benefits. The
government will want money, and the secretary can favour
the bidders. Such things as taking loans for millions have
been done by capitalists without advancing a dollar. The
secretary has only to furnish memoranda of the amounts
he will require per month, and entrust the bonds to the fortunate
bidder to dispose of them in the market. These
generally bring from five to ten per cent. advance on the
original bids, and thus the government is supplied, and individuals
enriched without the danger of loss, and without
the necessity of furnishing bona fide capital. A little management
and the good graces of the secretary have accomplished
great results. Don't you observe that if the original
bids—and the successful ones—should be low, about
par, and afterwards the bonds rise to twenty per cent. above
it, that the credit of the government is vindicated, and the
fame of the secretary expanded?”

“You are a great man, sir!” said Fawner, emphatically.
“They cannot keep you out of Congress. And you might
even be made the secretary—”

“It is probable, Fawner—quite probable—as worse men,
and weaker ones, have sometimes occupied the chief seats
in the departments. I aspire to the highest pitch—to the
presidency itself, perhaps! You shall be my confidential
adviser. Be prudent. Ah! yonder comes Dr. Castor.
Leave me now, and resume your post in the office. I will
instruct Castor what to reply to the thousand questions that
will be asked him to-morrow. Here I intend to remain until
the nomination is made. Bring me all the intelligence,

of whatever nature you can glean, every afternoon. Take
my carriage. Use it as your own. Command my servants
in the city, and write daily as instructed to Bainton during
his absence. Good-night.”

The departure of Fawner was followed by the entrance
of Dr. Castor.

“It is not a grave case, doctor,” said Mallex, observing
the serious concern depicted in the face of the professor.

“I am very glad of it,” said the doctor, taking the chair
which Fawner had occupied. “Where are you hurt?”

“In the abdomen, on the shoulder, about the left ancle,
and—”

“Bless me! did you use shot-guns?”

“Shot-guns? No. I do not speak of gun-shot wounds.
But bruises, merely bruises.”

“Why, it is rumoured that you have been shot down in
a duel.”

“Dr. Castor, I beg you will not contradict the rumour
either by word or look. But it is not true. I have, I may
say to you in confidence, been engaged in such an affair;
but no blood has been spilled. My injuries proceed from
being thrown by a horse, and then kicked by his horny
hoofs.”

“Ah, indeed! Not likely to be mortal, then. But contusions
are not without danger, especially when upon the
abdomen of a corpulent man. You must be kept quiet.
Can you make up your mind to undergo some little confinement.”

“Yes, sir. I give you a week to cure me in, provided
you give no medicine—”

“External applications and diet may do, since you can
sit up and make such stipulations. Talking, however, should
be avoided; and I will not even desire you to tell me any
of the particulars of the affair you hinted at.”

Mallex had no intention of making any further revelation;
and so he began to complain of pains and stiffness,
and encouraged the doctor to prescribe for him. He
groaned as if in agony, and prostrated himself on the
couch. The doctor rang for the house-keeper, directed
that the remedies he prescribed should be applied without
delay, and then left his patient.

When the house-keeper made her appearance in the
library the second time with her poultices and ointments,
she was surprised to find her master standing at the window,
attracted by the friendly bark of the watch-dog, who
seemed to be welcoming the approach of some familiar
visitor.

“It is Tom!” said Mallex, unconscious of the noiseless
approach of the old nurse.

“Yes, sir,” said she, “Towser always barks that way
when Tom comes.”

“Hah! I did not know you were back so soon, Mrs.
Carpenter. Put down your poultices. I am better now.
Leave them for me to apply when they are needed. Have
you been in the east wing of the house lately?”

“Lately? No, sir! Not for twelve months. Not since
you told me it had snakes in it, that came up the creeping
vines on the outside wall and got through the windows.
Nobody goes to that side of the house but Tom, and he
says he don't mind the snakes.”

“Very well. There is no necessity for you to go there.
Tom will be bitten some day if he is not careful.”

“La, sir! He even feeds 'em!”

“A strange boy—a strange boy! I hear him now. Send
him to me.”

Mrs. Carpenter retired to obey him. A moment after
Tom came in, betraying all the symptoms of excessive
agitation.

“Ha! ha! ha! Tom! You've heard the news. I see it
in your face.”

“I have, indeed, sir. But there must have been some
exaggeration. They say you were shot through the body.
That must be a mistake.”

“Of course it is. But you must undeceive no one for a
week. I am not hurt, save a few bruises, the pain from
which is nearly gone already. The doctor has been here
and left a list of remedies, which I shall throw out of the
window.”

“But did you not fight?”

“No. I intended to wing the rascally lawyer, but in
the act of firing was trampled down by a jackass. Then
I changed my mind, for while lying in the dust it occurred

to me that enough had been done to fill the trumpet of
Dame Rumour, and secure my election. That's all.”

“I'm very glad of it, sir!”

“Oh, I'm a hero, sir. Persever is too wise a lawyer to
contradict the gossips, and by denying or admitting anything
endanger himself. Where have you been to-day?”

“Selling the horse and buggy over in Jersey. I got
two hundred dollars.”

“Put them with the rest you have in the savings institution.
Now bring the light and let us see how our prisoner
comes on.”

They proceeded together to the dark room. When the
ponderous door was unfastened, and the rays of the lamp
illuminated the sombre recesses of the dungeon, they
beheld the miserable old woman in a kneeling posture,
with her hands joined together, thus making an humble appeal
to the bad man for mercy. She was now quite sober,
and fully realized the fact that she was completely in the
power of the one she had hitherto delighted in tormenting.

“I hope you are quite well, madam,” said Mallex, “and
that you are pleased with the country mansion you had so
long fixed your heart upon.”

“Marcy!” said the unhappy old criminal; “have pity
on me, and let me go. I'll never trouble you again! Only
let me out of this place, and you shall never hear of me
or see me again.” And as she spoke her repulsive head
seemed to vibrate more frightfully than it had ever done
before.

“I cannot take your word, and you cannot give me
security,” said Mallex.

“I'll give you back all the money I have left! Only
let me out, and you may send me to New York, or even
all the way to Californy.”

“No. Here you must remain, until death or derangement
shall put it out of your power to harm me. Your
fate is the result of your own folly, and your greatest
punishment will be the reflection that you would not be
satisfied with the reward I was willing to accord you.
Good night, old lady. You see I am master in my own
house!” Saying this, Mallex and Tom withdrew and secured
the door.

They returned to the library, and Mallex resumed his
reclining posture on the couch.

“Tom,” said he, “rub some laudanum on my ancle and
sides. I am bruised somewhat severely, but will be well
in a day or two.”

“I hope so, sir,” replied Tom, doing his father's bidding.
“And I think it is better for the affair to terminate
thus, than for you to have killed Mr. Persever.”

“Perhaps so. But it would have been better for you,
Tom, if I had been killed by him. It would have been an
honourable death, for the father of the moral, and accomplished,
and handsome heir—”

“No such thing has entered my mind, sir. No, sir, I
am not handsome. I have no visions of future pleasure,
unless it be in heaven.”

“Heaven! Go to bed, sir! I'll sleep here,” growled
the guilty man, burying his face in the cushions. He
dreamed of triumphs, and enjoyed the savage satisfaction
of circumventing or triumphing over his enemies. It is
not true that the guilty are always the victims of remorse.