Chapter LXXVIII: Bertha Hears of the Challenge

“Bertha! Bertha! what can I do? The wretch has challenged Egbert, and I have more than half been the cause of it!”

Mrs. Forbes had not observed the look of dead apathy on that locked face when she entered Bertha’s chamber, for the blinds were almost closed, and the girl did not rise to receive her with the usual eager welcome.

“Challenge! Did you speak of a challenge? That means a duel! Who is to be killed now?”

Bertha’s voice sounded hollow and strange, but Mrs. Forbes was too much excited for clear observation, and replied, almost impatiently:

“Who? Fletcher, my brother—the man who has twice saved your life, and now risks his own a third time in your behalf—a man who loves you better than all the world beside!”

“Loves me! Ah, yes, he did love me once, but that is a long time ago,” answered Bertha, drearily.

“A long time ago! Bertha, this is cruel unbelief! He has always loved you—always will love you—without return, without a hope of return—and now, poor fellow, he is going to die for you!—for that man will strike him down just as gladly as he married Mary Noel.”

Bertha started out of her numb apathy, and turned her eyes, enlarged and burning, on her visitor.

“Tell me what you have been saying. I heard you, but did not comprehend. Something is the matter with me here, and here.”

Bertha pressed her heart with one hand, then touched her head with grave, pathetic meaning.

“I said, Bertha (but you did not seem to care), that Waldon was married, three days ago, to Mary Noel.”

“Ha! I understand that! Poor girl! She was frail and childish, but not hard and bad. She did not deserve this awful fate!”

“Bertha, how strangely you speak! The last time I was here, you were wild with the thought of this marriage, and gave such evidence of love for the man as almost made me hate you.”

“Love! Did I ever love that man? If I did, it was a wicked sacrilege, for which God has done well to punish me. Oh, I am punished! Don’t be hard with me, for I am awfully punished!”

“How is this, Bertha? Can the marriage of a bad man affect you so?”

“His marriage! I only think of that to pity _her_!”

“And you have ceased to care for him?”

“Ceased to care for him! Oh, no! no! We have not done with each other yet!”

A singular smile rose and spread over that wan face, and Bertha pressed a hand restlessly against her bosom, to make sure that a paper resting there was quite safe.

“Bertha! Bertha! how wild you look! For Heaven’s sake, do not tell me that the marriage of Russell Waldon has driven you mad!”

“His marriage! But you will not understand. It is not that! Oh, it is not that!”

“Then is it that you are afraid he will fall, instead of my brother?”

“Fall instead of your brother!—a fiend for an angel! But tell me more clearly—what has this man done? Does he threaten another life? Has he dared to outrage high Heaven again? This challenge—what is it?”

“Waldon has sent a challenge to Egbert, for his action, the other night, at Noel’s dinner.”

“What was that, Alice? I know you told me something; but, since then, so much has happened, and I have not been well. They quarrelled, I think you said, about some lady. Who was it?”

“Bertha, you will drive me wild! It was for your sake that Egbert dashed the wine in that coward’s face! He had dared to slander you before Noel’s guests!”

“Slander me! Is that true? Well, well! that is not much. Great crimes swallow up little ones so completely that we do not count them. Then your brother—your brave, noble brother!—stood up in my behalf the third time? Oh, how I wish this could beat again! but it never will—it never will!”

The poor girl laid one hand on her heart, and pressed it there, looking at the anxious face of her visitor with such pathetic mournfulness that Alice began to cry.

“How pleasant crying must be!” said Bertha, shaking her head.

“Bertha, dear, do try and comprehend how I am suffering. I came here in some wild hope that you could help me. Waldon has sent a challenge to my brother. One of his friends brought it, demanding an apology. Egbert peremptorily refused to apologize for anything he had done, or take back a word he had said. Before this, Mary Noel came to me (upon my word I believe that coward sent her) and besought me to win an apology from Egbert; but I would not do it—no, not to save his dear life! But the alternative is terrible, Bertha. Waldon has no mercy. They tell me that his aim is deadly.”

Bertha was thinking keenly now. The haze had been swept from her brain; her great eyes filled with subtle meaning.

“When is this meeting to be, Alice?”

“To-morrow, in the morning.”

“Where?”

“I do not know; they will not tell me. His second seemed afraid that I would complain to the authorities.”

“They will not meet. There has been murder enough. This man shall perpetrate no more. Your brother saved my life and his. There shall be no foul play in return. Have no fear, Alice.”

“But what can you do, Bertha—see this man?”

“Yes, I will see him.”

“Perhaps something might come of it. Oh, Bertha, do try!”

Mrs. Forbes threw herself into Bertha’s arms, trembling and sobbing violently.

“I know that you will save him—I know that you will! If all else fails, you might go to a magistrate. He would not forgive his sister, but you might.”

“He shall be saved!” answered Bertha, and they parted.