Freeman gazed at it for a moment in silence. It mystified him, and then irritated him. When one is bent heart and soul upon an important enterprise, any interruption is an annoyance. Perhaps there was in the young American's nature just enough remains of belief in witches and hobgoblins to make him feel warranted in resorting to extreme measures. At any rate, he lifted his revolver, and fired.
It was a long shot for a revolver: nevertheless it took effect. The luminous object disappeared with a faint explosive sound, followed by a shout unmistakably human.
The long stems of the wild mustard swayed and parted, and out sprang a figure, which ran straight towards the two young men.
Hereupon, Don Miguel, hissing out an appeal to the Virgin and the saints, turned and fled.
Meanwhile, the mysterious figure continued its onward career; and Freeman once more levelled his weapon,--when a voice, which gave him such a start of surprise as well-nigh caused him to pull the trigger for sheer lack of self-command, called out, "Why, you abominable young villain! What the mischief do you mean?
Do you want to be hanged?"
"Professor Meschines!" faltered Freeman.
It was indeed that worthy personage, and he was on fire with wrath. He held in one hand a shattered lantern mounted on the end of a pole, and in the other a long- handled net of gauze, such as entomologists use to catch moths withal. Under his left arm was slung a brown japanned case, in which he presumably deposited the spoils of his skill. Freeman's shot had not only smashed and extinguished the lantern which served as bait for the game, but had also given the professor a disagreeable reminder that the tenure of human life is as precarious as that of the silly moth which allows itself to be lured to destruction by shining promises of bliss.
"Upon my soul, professor, I am very sorry," said Freeman. "You have no idea how formidable you looked; and you could hardly expect me to imagine that you would be abroad at such an hour----"
"And why not, I should like to know?" shouted the professor, towering with indignation. "Was I doing anything to be ashamed of? And what are you doing here, pray, with loaded revolvers in your hands?
--Hallo! who's this?" he exclaimed, as Don Miguel advanced doubtfully out of the gloom. "Senor de Mendoza, as I'm a sinner! and armed, too! Well, really!
Are you two out on a murdering expedition?
--Oho!" he went on, in a changed tone, glancing keenly from one to another:
"methinks I see the bottom of this mystery.
You have ridden forth, like the champions of romance, to do doughty deeds upon each other!--Is it not so, Don Miguel?" he demanded, turning his fierce spectacles suddenly on that young man.
Don Miguel, ignoring a secret gesture from Freeman, admitted that he had been on the point of expunging the latter from this mortal sphere.
The professor chuckled sarcastically. "I see! Blood! Wounded honor! The code!
--But, by the way, I don't see your seconds!
Where are your seconds?"
"My dear sir," said Freeman, "I assure you it's all a mistake. We just happened to meet at the gen--er--happened to meet, and were riding home together----"
"Now, listen to me, Harvey," the professor interrupted, holding up an expository finger. "You have known me since some ten years, I think; and I have known you.
You were a clever boy in your studies; but it was your foible to fancy yourself cleverer than you were. Acting under that delusion, you pitted yourself against me on one or two occasions; and I leave it to your candid recollection whether you or I had the best of the encounter. You call yourself a man, now; but I make bold to say that the-- discrepancy, let us call it--between you and me remains as conspicuous as ever it was. I see through you, sir, much more clearly than, by this light, I can see you. I am fond of you, Harvey; but I feel nothing but contempt for your present attitude. In the first place, conscious as you are of your skill with that weapon, you know that this affair--even had seconds been present--would have been, not a duel, but an assassination. You acted like a coward!--I say it, sir, like a coward!-- and I hope you may live to be as much ashamed of yourself as I am now ashamed for you. Secondly, your conduct, considered in its relations to--to certain persons whom I will not name, is that of a boor and a blackguard. Suppose you had accomplished the cowardly murder--the cowardly murder, I said, sir--that you were bent upon to-night. Do you think that would be a grateful and acceptable return for the courtesy and confidence that have been shown you in that house?--a house, sir, to which I myself introduced you, under the mistaken belief that you were a gentleman, or, at least, could feign gentlemanly behavior!
But I won't--my feelings won't allow me to enlarge further upon this point. But allow me to add, in the third place, that you have shown yourself a purblind donkey. Actually, you haven't sense enough to know the difference between those who pull with you and those who pull against you. Now, I happen to know--to know, do you hear?--that had you succeeded in what you were just about to attempt, you would have removed your surest ally,--the surest, because his interests prompt him to favor yours. You pick out the one man who was doing his best to clear the obstacle out of your path, and what do you do?--Thank him?--Not you! You plot to kill him! But even had he been, as you in your stupidity imagined, your rival, do you think the course you adopted would have promoted your advantage? Let me tell you, sir, that you don't know the kind of people you are dealing with. You would never have been permitted to cross their threshold again. And you may take my word for it, if ever you venture to recur to any such folly, I will see to it that you receive your deserts.--Well, I think we understand each other, now?"
