Ole Devil at San Jacinto (Old Devil Hardin Western Book 4) (7 page)

Dumoulin discovered that he felt neither
exhilarated, nor noble. Instead, there was something distinctly
unnerving about the grim looking Texian who stood before him. He
found that it was almost impossible to meet the steely scrutiny of
those hard dark eyes and he wished that he could turn to Jaloux or
Pierre-Quint for guidance. Wondering if the sensation was the
result of cowardice on his part, he felt a growing anger with
himself. He became filled with a determination to carry the affair
through to the bitter end.

‘
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’
sugge
stions
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 Du
moulin, 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.

‘
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?’