Ole Devil at San Jacinto (Old Devil Hardin Western Book 4) Page 5

  ‘I have, m’sieur,’ the youngster confirmed, hoping that he was sounding more resolute than he was feeling. He tensed, right hand clenching and opening spasmodically, conscious of his companions watching his every move. In spite of his inclination, pride forced him to continue, ‘I trust that, as a gentleman, you will not need me to make my point more forcibly?’

  For his part, although nothing showed externally, Ole Devil was fuming with rage. Faced as he was with the need to make ready for the dangerous and potentially important assignment he had been given, the last thing he wanted was to have such a distraction thrust upon him. Yet he realized that, having allowed it to develop so far, it would be practically impossible to avoid the issue.

  Born and raised in Louisiana, Ole Devil had had considerable experience with the arrogant and race-proud French-Creoles’ creed of ‘code duello’, although so far he had not become involved in it. To use his military rank as a means of refusing the challenge, particularly as Dumoulin had said ‘m’sieur’ instead of ‘captain’ would avail him nothing. Clearly the youngster had been persuaded by his older companions to represent them and he felt he had to do so. While his heart might not be in it, he would be unwilling to let it appear he was afraid to fight. In such a frame of mind, he might make matters worse by striking Ole Devil as a means of ensuring the duel took place.

  ‘Very well, m’sieur,’ the Texian barked, accepting the inevitable and cracking out each word with savage finality. ‘You’ll have your satisfaction!’

  Having attained the result he wanted, Dumoulin discovered that his success was more disconcerting than satisfying. Nor was his condition improved by an uneasy suspicion that he was behaving in a foolish and irresponsible manner.

  Although the youngster came from a similar social background, his upbringing had differed in one important respect from that of his companions. His father, one of the leading members of the medical profession in Louisiana, had never encouraged him to adopt the generally accepted sentiments regarding the worthiness of the ‘code duello’. In fact, both publicly as well as in private, Doctor Charles Alphonse Dumoulin had never referred to the participants in trivial so-called ‘affairs of honour’ with anything but disparaging terms.

  Bored with waiting to commence his medical education, Dumoulin had persuaded his parents to let him accompany his Uncle Jules and friends to Texas. Wondering if his father’s views on dueling had affected his courage, he waited for an opportunity to prove himself. Like the rest of the New Orleans’ Wildcats’ younger officers, he found the situation vastly different to what he had expected. Instead of being dispatched immediately to engage the enemy, the Wildcats were informed that instead of a battle they would accompany the Republic of Texas’s Army in its withdrawal. Disappointment and boredom had had an adverse effect upon the hot-headed young bloods who had come in search of adventure. Now they were beginning to wax critical of the Texians. Nor had their mood been improved by learning that Colonel James Walker Fannin’s command had been massacred at Goliad and that, in spite of their offers of action, General Houston had refused to permit any punitive expeditions.

  To do Dumoulin justice, he had never subscribed to some of his companions’ suggestions that Lieutenant Paul Dimmock’s survival indicated a lack of courage. However, without realizing what was happening, he found himself becoming involved in the issue.

  Shortly after Colonel Dumoulin had spoken to his officers about the incident at the Grand Hotel, declaring his disapproval and warning that the matter must not be taken any further, the youngster had been invited by Jaloux and Pierre-Quint to accompany them for a drink. As there had been nothing else for him to do, the preparations for moving out being left in the hands of the regiment’s colored servants, he had accepted.

  On arriving at the hotel, it had soon become apparent to the youngster that his companions did not intend to respect their commanding officer’s wishes. What was more, as their injuries prevented them from competing with a man who had such a high reputation as a handler of weapons, Dumoulin found that they expected him to avenge what they had described as an affront to the honor of their regiment. Although he had hoped to avoid the issue, without making it appear that he was afraid—some of their comments had implied that his own courage was in question—they had seen the cause of their hostility approaching. Faced with his companions’ obvious expectations, his pride would not allow him to refuse when they had stated that he should go outside and demand satisfaction.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Dumoulin responded, after a moment’s pause, feeling as if his throat was becoming blocked up. Struggling to control the growing alarm and consternation that was assailing him, he saw what might be a way out. ‘My seconds will await your convenience in the morning.’

  And that, the youngster told himself with something close to relief, was that. It was over, for the time being at least. Perhaps, on learning what had happened, his uncle would make an official intervention and prevent the duel from taking place.

  There was an unpleasant surprise to come!

  ‘No, m’sieur,’ Ole Devil contradicted, still watching Dumoulin with the same disconcertingly steady gaze. ‘We’ll settle it right now!’

  ‘N—Now?’ the youngster almost yelped and he heard his companions let out soft spoken exclamations of satisfaction.

  ‘Now!’ Ole Devil confirmed, apparently devoting his entire attention to his challenger, but also keeping the other two Creoles under observation and drawing conclusions from their reactions. ‘As you said, m’sieur, I’m taking my Company out on patrol in the morning and won’t have time to spare for meeting you before I leave. So, unless you have any objections, now is satisfactory for me.’

  ‘B—But—!’ Dumoulin spluttered.

  ‘Being the challenged party, I believe the choice of weapons is mine,’ Ole Devil continued remorselessly, showing no sign of having heard the interruption or noticing the youngster’s growing perturbation. ‘I choose pistols—‘

  ‘Excuse me, Cap—M’sieur Hardin,’ Dumoulin interrupted, seeing hope of gaining a respite. ‘Under the circumstances, our affair must proceed according to the accepted conventions. Your choice must be communicated by your seconds.’

  ‘That is correct, m’sieur,’ Ole Devil admitted. He saw Jaloux and Pierre-Quint look annoyed. He looked past them and went on, ‘Will you oblige by acting for me. Captain Hallistead?’

  ‘Certainly, Captain Hardin,’ replied a well modulated and cultured voice with the carrying resonance of one who was used to speaking in public and making himself heard.

  Looking over their shoulders, the Creoles studied the speaker as he strolled from the front door of the hotel. There was something flamboyant, almost theatrical, about his tall beaver hat and well cut riding clothes. If Jaloux and Pierre-Quint had been more observant, they would have remembered that he was present during the earlier contretemps. He had, in fact, prevented another of the onlookers from making a comment which could have ruined Ole Devil’s plan. The trio regarded him with different feelings. To the injured young men, he offered a means of obtaining revenge. Dumoulin saw him as an interfering busybody.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ Ole Devil said. ‘May I present Captain Mangrove Hallistead of General Houston’s staff.’

  ‘Who else is acting for you?’ Dumoulin inquired, before the introduction could be acknowledged.

  ‘My companion,’ the Texian replied, indicating Tommy Okasi.

  ‘Your companion?’ the youngster repeated, darting a look at the little Oriental and, in spite of their eagerness to bring about the duel, the other two Creoles showed a similar surprise. ‘But he’s only a Chinaman—!’

  ‘Japanese,’ Hallistead corrected, before Ole Devil could do so. ‘An Oriental race, true, but in no way contiguous with the Celestial Empire of Ancient Cathay. Furthermore, in his native land, Mr. Okasi is what is termed a Samurai. They are an elite warrior class and of the lower nobility. By our standards, his rank would be that of baronet. In fact, gentlemen, as this is
the case, he will have to waive the question of his birthright if he is willing to act for Captain Hardin.’

  Such was the magnificent authority with which the pronouncement was made that the Creoles were visibly impressed. All of them had heard of Mangrove Hallistead. Prior to his departure for Texas, he had appeared with resounding success at the best theaters in every major city of the United States. Such was the fame he had achieved that, notwithstanding the general reluctance shown by many wealthy families to accept members of the theatrical profession as social equals, he had had entry to the majority of influential households on both sides of the Mason-Dixon line. xv

  One of the conventions for the conducting of a duel required that the seconds were of equal status in society with the principals they were to attend. However, provided a man was willing to waive the question of his rank, he could act for a friend of lower social standing.

  Bearing in mind who they were dealing with, the Creoles—particularly Jaloux and Pierre-Quint—were willing to concede Hallistead’s point regarding the eligibility of Tommy Okasi acting as the Texian’s second. While Dumoulin wanted to protest, he believed such an act would make the men around him think he was afraid. So he kept silent and allowed his companions to continue with the arrangements.

  ‘Very well, sir,’ Pierre-Quint said, glancing at and receiving a confirmatory nod from Jaloux, but not bothering to consult with his principal. ‘If this—gentleman—is in agreement—’

  ‘I am,’ confirmed Tommy, who spoke English well enough to have followed the conversation and knew what was expected of him.

  ‘Then, gentlemen,’ Pierre-Quint went on, making no attempt to conceal his satisfaction. ‘If you will accompany us a short way along the street, we can make the necessary arrangements.’

  Watching the four men walk past him, Ole Devil looked at Dumoulin and almost felt sorry for him. His face had lost most of its color and he seemed to be on the point of calling to his seconds. Then, noticing that he was being observed by the Texian, he stiffened and set his teeth. Swinging on his heel, he began to stare with great intensity at the window of the general store—from which all the merchandise had been removed—across the street.

  Deciding that there was nothing to be gained by speaking to Dumoulin, Ole Devil did not offer to do so. Instead, he listened to the seconds. They had not bothered to move away and, particularly as Hallistead—whose voice had been trained to be audible at long distance—was doing most of the talking, he could hear what was being said.

  By the time the arrangements were concluded, the Texian realized there were a number of irregularities being permitted in the conducting of the duel. If it should end in a fatality, these would cause serious repercussions for all concerned and especially for the surviving principal.

  Chapter Five – There Must Be Another Shot

  ‘In addition to being gentlemen of honor, we are also holding commissions as officers and we are on active service in time of war,’ announced Mangrove Hallistead, acting as spokesman for Ole Devil Hardin’s faction, as he looked from Tommy Okasi to Lieutenants Marcel Pierre-Quint and Gerard Jaloux. ‘So I assume we are all in agreement that our military duties must take precedence over our private affairs?’

  ‘Well—yes—that is correct,’ Pierre-Quint conceded somewhat dubiously, after having traded looks with Jaloux and noticing that the little Oriental had nodded concurrence. In his capacity as Alphonse Jules Dumoulin’s senior second, he continued, ‘But an affair of honor is an obligation which cannot be overlooked.’

  ‘Naturally. And nobody wishes it to be,’ the entertainer admitted majestically. ‘However while circumstances, the nature of which we are all cognizant with, do not permit us to adhere rigidly to the “Clonmel Code”, xvi it is imperative that we employ its Twentieth Commandment, to wit, “Seconds are bound to attempt a reconciliation before any meeting takes place”.’ For all his insistence, he refrained from completing the ruling with the words, ‘or after a sufficient firing or hits as specified’, but concluded, ‘Don’t you agree, gentlemen?’

  ‘We agree,’, Pierre-Quint said reluctantly, once again glancing at his companion. They were both so impressed by Hallistead’s assured demeanor and knowledge that neither wished to admit that he was not equally conversant with the various ‘Commandments’ of the Clonmel Code. ‘However, in our case this would be a waste of time. We know our principal is adamant and will refuse any offer of reconciliation until his honor has been satisfied.’

  ‘Very well,’ the entertainer acceded, although a strict adherence to the Clonmel Code would have required that an attempt was at least made. ‘Our principal has stated that his choice of weapons is pistols. Is this satisfactory?’

  ‘It is,’ Pierre-Quint affirmed, laying his hand on the butt of the firearm in his belt. ‘We anticipated the need and have brought a pair with us. They can be used, unless your principal has any objections.’

  ‘He has none,’ Hallistead declared, duplicating Ole Devil’s summation that the weapons in question were a matched brace of dueling pistols. ‘And now to the venue. There is an area a short distance beyond the livery barn which will offer us the necessary seclusion and privacy. I would suggest that we wend our way thence and let the affair be settled without delay.’

  ‘We’re agreeable,’ Pierre-Quint declared, ignoring the fact that by convention an independent Director of the Duel and a surgeon should be present. Instead, he threw a look of triumph at Jaloux and, glancing around him at the street, went on, ‘The sooner it’s settled, the less chance of intervention.’

  Although there were a number of people in the vicinity, some of whom glanced at the group in passing, nobody offered to stop and address them. The majority of the men guessed what was taking place, but accepted that it was none of their concern. Duels were sufficiently common in the United States and Texas for them to appreciate the danger of displaying too much interest, much less actually trying to interfere in the proceedings.

  Separating without further conversation, the seconds joined their principals. Once again the two older Creoles’ eagerness to commence was noticeable. Instead of telling Dumoulin what had been arranged, in order to ascertain his feelings, they took him by the arms and set off towards the alley at the end of the Grand Hotel. Following them, Hallistead explained the arrangements to Ole Devil and gave further information which added to the suppositions he had already formulated.

  On arriving, the party found that the spot selected by the entertainer was perfect for their purpose. While less than a quarter of a mile from the livery barn, the hollow into which they descended was sufficiently large and deep for the duel to take place without it being observed by anybody beyond the rim. Considering the various irregularities they were permitting in the affair, they all felt this to be of some importance.

  As it was desirable to avoid proceedings taking place while in the heat of temper, one rule which all of the various conventions laid down was that there should, if possible, be a period of waiting between the challenge and the event. However, they also took into account that circumstances might render this impractical. So the duel following shortly after the challenge was permissible under the prevailing conditions.

  The lack of independent supervision was another matter. Every convention insisted that certain officials, unconnected with either party, must be present to ensure fair play. Another point was that, to prevent either participant tampering with the weapons or otherwise obtaining an unfair advantage, the pistols should belong to the officials and be brought to the dueling ground in a locked and sealed box.

  ‘Will twenty-five paces be acceptable?’ Pierre-Quint asked, as he and Jaloux joined Ole Devil’s seconds, leaving Dumoulin standing disconsolately.

  ‘It will,’ Hallistead confirmed, knowing that his principal was an excellent pistol shot.

  ‘The pistols are charged smooth and single,’ Pierre-Quint stated, offering both weapons butt first to the entertainer. ‘We will allow your principal to make the first sel
ection.’

  ‘We accept, with thanks,’ Hallistead answered formally, as such an assurance on the part of another gentleman was held to be sufficient proof that the weapons were identical in every respect, including the way they had been loaded. ‘Do you wish my principal to remove his shirt?’

  ‘It won’t be necessary,’ Pierre-Quint replied, although there was a sound reason why he should have said ‘yes’. ‘Shall I have mine take off his jacket?’

  ‘There’s no need,’ Hallistead said, knowing that to do so would offer Ole Devil no advantage. ‘Now, sir, what are your intentions with regard to our principals’ firing positions?’

  The question was in order. While the challenged party had the choice of weapons and venue, the challenger was entitled to select the distance between the firing of pistols. However, Pierre-Quint did not consult Dumoulin and made only a cursory study of their surroundings.

  ‘It is of no consequence,’ the Creole remarked in an offhand manner, ‘The light is equally good over the whole area and there isn’t enough wind to affect the night of the bullets.’

  ‘As you will,’ the entertainer acceded and turned to Dumoulin’s other second. ‘If you will pace off the required distance across the center, sir, Mr. Okasi can mark the firing positions.’

  Going to the side of the hollow, Jaloux watched the little Oriental scuffing an ‘X’ in the soil with the heel of his right boot. Then the young Creole stepped out twenty-five long paces and, where he stopped, Tommy marked the spot in the same manner.

  ‘We should have a Director of the Duel, sir,’ Hallistead pointed out, while the marking was taking place. ‘However, under the circumstances, it is permissible for one of us to officiate.’

  ‘Will you do the honors, sir?’ Pierre-Quint inquired, accepting that the entertainer’s summation was correct and seeing that he could use it to serve his own purpose.