Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill - Plaidy Jean (книги онлайн полные версии .TXT) 📗

The Prince could scarcely wait until morning for the delivery of the letter and its results.

Fox, watching the affair with a cynical amusement, thought: He must have his diversions, but he is young yet.

Dinner was a less glittering occasion than it had been on the previous evening and took place in the silver-walled dining room among the red and yellow granite pillars. The Prince had invited Major Hanger to sit near him and lost little time in bringing the conversation to the ball at St. James's.

'What an effect your appearance had on the ladies, Major. There we were all dressed like popinjays and you ... in your uniform. You were indeed a man/

The Major swallowed the bait; his eyes bulged and his face grew scarlet.

'Your Highness, I have had a most insulting letter. I have been held up to ridicule, it is more than mortal man can endure. Your Highness must forgive my anger.but, Sir, I have been insulted.'

The Prince expressed concern. But how was this?

The Major brought the letter from his pocket. 'If Your Highness would cast your eye over this you would see what I mean.'

The Prince read the letter with exclamations of sympathy. 'No doubt whatever,' he agreed, 'the writer of this letter means to insult you.'

At this corroboration the Major's anger increased. 'Blitz und Holle/ he shouted. 'I swear that if I could discover the writer of this letter I would demand satisfaction.'

The Prince agreed that in the Major's position he would feel exactly the same. 'How do you feel, Charles?'

Fox, playing up as was expected, replied that he considered it an insult to turn the Major's stately, erect and perpendicular figure to ridicule.

'I am determined to discover the writer,' cried the Major.

'I think we should try to help to bring this fellow to his deserts,' said the Prince. He picked up the letter. 'By God, this handwriting! I swear it is familiar to me. What say you, Charles? Does it not remind you of that mischievous fellow Sheridan. Come, Charles, you know his writing well/

Fox took the letter and nodded. 'No doubt of it,' he said.

The Major's eyes bulged with indignation. 'Playwrights I' he said. 'They fancy themselves with a pen in the hand! By God, he shall regret this day.' He turned to Captain Morris who was

sitting nearby. 'Sir, I wish you to take a challenge from me to Mr. Sheridan.'

'Major,' said the Prince, 'I know it is my duty to attempt to persuade you against the action and this I do, but I am bound to say were I in your position nothing would deter me. But do consider, Sheridan has written this in one of his mad mischievous moods and he is a mad and mischievous fellow.'

'Sir, I beg of Your Highness not to command me to forgo this duty. I have every wish to obey every command of Your Highness...'

The Prince bowed his head. 'My sympathies are with you, Major. I will keep silent and may luck go with you.'

'Now, Your Highness, having despatched this challenge to the fellow I will, with your permission, go to my lodgings and await the blackguard's answer.'

'I understand your concern. You should lose no time. If he accepts your challenge you will have preparations to make.'

As soon as the Major left a messenger was despatched to Sheridan asking him to report at Carlton House without delay so that the conspirators could plan the next move in what was to the Prince one of the most highly diverting practical jokes he had ever played.

It was daybreak in Battersea Fields. Captain Morris was with the Major, and Sheridan had chosen Fox as his second. In a carriage muffled up, hat well over his eyes, his face made up to resemble an older man, sat the Prince of Wales in the role of the surgeon who, Fox and Morris had agreed, must be in attendance.

The opponents faced each other; their seconds loaded the pistols; the signal to fire was given. The Major, a crack shot, aimed at the playwright but failed to hit him. The pistols were loaded a second time with the same result.

'God damn the fellow!' cried the Major. 'What's wrong? Should have got him first time.'

'The third time generally is effective,' said Captain Morris and glanced towards the carriage in which the 'surgeon' was seated trying to muffle his laughter.

Hie order was given to fire and Sheridan fell.

'By God, you have killed him, Major,' cried Captain Morris. 'Quick. We must get away while there is time.'

Before the Major could protest he was hustled into a carriage and ordered the coachman to lose no time. Away rattled the carriage and the Prince alighted and reeling with laughter went over to the fallen playwright.

'Well played, Sherry,' he said. 'Get up. By God, I'll swear you never had a better scene in any of your plays.'

# * *

The Prince drove back to Carlton House laughing hilariously with Fox and Sheridan; but suddenly he was serious.

'What can it feel like to have killed a man?'

'The first emotion would be gratification for having avenged an insult,' said Fox.

'Then remorse for having taken life, perhaps,' added Sheridan. 'But perhaps fear of the law would come first.'

'Remorse,' mused the Prince. 'I like the fellow in a way. He's grotesque but he amuses me. I shall let him know at once that you are not dead, Sherry.'

'Won't that spoil Your Highness's little joke?' asked Fox.

'My dear Charles, I have had my joke. I have rarely laughed so much. I have rarely been so diverted. But I am sure that when the Major recovers a little from his gratification remorse will set in. Also he might decide to flee the country. I shall send for him immediately and tell him that Sherry is not fatally wounded.'

'Your Highness has not only a sense of the ridiculous but a sensitive heart,' said Fox.

# * #

As soon as he saw the Major's remorseful manner the Prince hastened to reassure him.

'This is a bad business, Major, but I have some good news for you. Sheridan is not dead. I have had it from the ... er surgeon. He will live.'

'Your Highness, I am indeed glad to hear that.'

'I thought you would be, Major. Alas our passions get the better of us and lead us to rash actions.'

'It's true, but it is a terrible thing to kill a man outside of war.'

'Well, you can assure yourself that the fellow will live. Come here to dine tonight and I will have here a gentleman who will give you the fullest information as to his condition.'

'I don't know how to thank Your Highness.'

'Believe me, Major, I have understood your actions all along.'

The Prince had the satisfaction of seeing the Major retire in a happier mood than that one in which he had arrived.

The Prince received Major Hanger yet again at Carlton House.

'Now,' he said, 'I shall send for the gentleman who can give you the information you need.'

He signed to a page and Sheridan came into the room.

'But...' stammered the Major, blinking at the playwright. 'What means this? I thought I had killed you!'

'Oh,' cried Sheridan, 'I am not quite good enough for the world above. I am not yet fully qualified for this one below. So I thought it better to postpone my departure a little longer.'

'But ... I saw you fall. How could I have fired straight at you and you not...'

Sheridan turned to the Prince and said: 'I have no doubt His Highness will explain.'

'Major,' said the Prince, beginning to laugh, 'you have been the victim of a little plot of mine. It was I who conceived the idea and knowing you for the good sport you are I am sure you'll enjoy the joke.' He explained it all; how he had selected Sheridan to write the letter, how no balls had been put into the pistols, how both seconds were in the plot, and how the surgeon had been the Prince himself.

The Major listened in silence and then burst out laughing. His body shook with his guffaws and the Prince and Sheridan joined in.