A White Face And A Black Mask. By The Author Of "The Buccaneers,"  "The King’s Highway," &c. Reynolds’s  Miscellany. Volume 37, Number 941. Saturday, June 23, 1866.
Chapter II.
A Stroke; But Will It Serve It’s Purpose ?
"Hubert Lester !" Captain Night muttered to himself, as he crossed the narrow road to avoid a party of gay gentlemen, who, passing from one tavern to another, were making the street echo with their boisterous merriment,- "Hubert Lester ! How did the old bag come to guess my errand there ? I’d give something to put that viperous old woman’s thumbs in the screws and make her speak." And with this pleasant wish towards Mistress Perling, our hero disappeared for the second time that evening through the archway leading into a court-yard of no small pretensions.
Strains of gay music came through the open, brilliantly lighted windows, and coming and going were groups of lacqueys, and serving-men, betokening that, gay as the last Courtenay’s mansion always was, something beyond the ordinary was taking place.
Captain Night gave one quick, satisfied glance around.
"So far, the varlet has not deceived me at any rate," he muttered; and then making his way through the chattering servants, he entered the house as one perfectly familiar with it, and having perfect right therein.
There was not much difficulty in finding his way to the ball-room, and no-one offering any opposition to his advance, he soon found himself amidst one of those scenes of English splendour and beauty which a man must have been dead indeed to all the softer passions and emotions, not to feel his heart thrill as he gazed on.
Lady Courtenay was one of the many belles of the Merry Monarch’s Court, who rather than lose the favour of royalty, received the frail as well as the fair; and as in those days it seemed that many of those frail were remarkably lovely, her saloons were generally a perfect garden of beauty.
A garden where Charles loved well to come and woo and court with true royal liberality.
No wonder the highwayman, suddenly released from his Newgate cell, felt almost dazzled as he looked around him.
He was gazing most intently round him as he stood in the shadow of a heavy velvet curtain, and though he did not spare his glances at every fair one that passed him by, he apparently kept chiefly to some object.
He was looking for some one.
Suddenly he started, and then drawing back still farther into the shadow, waited the approach of a man of very much his own height, though more slightly built, and considerably older.
There was something singularly repulsive-looking in this individual; and as he bent down smiling over the lady he was evidently attending to her sedan, there was an expression given to the lean, lank jaws almost fiendish.
Waiting to see him fairly out of the ball-room, Claude quickly followed; and then passing him on the stairs, jostled against him, so as to jerk him down a step or two, and even make his companion stumble.
"Halloa, there, fellow ! Methinks your manners need a little mending," began the gentleman hotly.
"Which, however, they could scarcely get at your hands !" coolly responded our hero, " However, if you want me, fear not, and follow me !"
He spoke in his most insolent tone, and quietly as the elderly gallant had been at first inclined to recieve the insolent action, he was forced to make some show of clapping his hand to his sword.
"Fear !" he said scornfully. "Stay you here, man, and I will answer that question."
They happened to be standing in an unfrequented corner of the staircase, so the quarrel attracted no attention beyond that of two young men, who, arm in arm, were, like themselves, leaving the ball, but they immediately drew near.
"Such words can but lead to one answer," whispered one.
"Ay," said Claude, loud enough to reach the offended one’s ears, as he re-ascended- "among brave men; but cowards find words for everything; and Hubert Lester was always glibe with his tongue !"
The mening of the insult was too evident, and though it was apparent that Claude was purposely seeking a quarrel, not even Hubert Lester could calmly brook such insolence.
"I answer gentlemen with my tongue; but villains and miscreants I have a sharper instrument for. Unsay all your foul imputations, or I will force them down your lying throat with a sword’s point !"
Claude burst into a stinging laugh.
"I am ready now to feel your steel ! I know it is an unpracticed hand, though; and I warn you mine is not."
How much farther the quarrel would have gone seemed uncertain; but one of the friends of Hubert Lester, linking his arms in his, drew him aside advising an immediate adjournment, to settle the difference in a manner more becoming to gentlemen.
Matters of that description were very commonplace affairs in those days. It was nothing to run a friend through the body in return for a hasty word; and so to the onlookers of this scene, that the two gentlemen should immediately proceed to fight it out was a matter of the most natural consequence in the world.
Scarcely a quarter of an hour passed before they were all seated in a small boat crossing the river to a tavern on the other side, where such duels were fought by the score.
The night was dark, and so Claude found little difficulty in hiding his face from the gaze of his opponent as they sat there in close proximity. Perhaps, could Hubert Lester have seen the triumphant smile on it he would have been less eager to fight. Certainly he had not an idea that that man had come out of prison to hunt him out and pick this quarrel with him. He had no idea that it was Claude Night, the highwayman, who sat there beside him.
The journey was quickly accomplished; and then the whole party turned into a tavern, at the back of which was the field in which the duels were generally fought; but the darkness of the night obliged them to make a large upper chamber the scene of the action, and thither they ascended.
Claude pressed on matters with a recklessness that even surprised the two seconds; but then, to a man who had got to return to Newgate with that horrible fate awaiting him at noon, every moment was precious.
With alacrity he flung aside his mantle and doublet, and then taking his sword from his sheath, stood before his antagonist.
There was not a doubt that the highwayman meant mischief, and deadly mischief too; and then as Hubert Lester, almost for the first time, saw his face, he started back with a sharp cry.
But it was too late- too late; his sword was already crossed with that of Claude’s !
A few passes - one or two successful parries - and then that skilful hand showed its skill by a desperate lunge !
The duel was over; and on the floor lay the corpse of Hubert Lester ! The sword had passed through his very heart !
There was a murmur of consternation; but, after all, who cared ? It had been a fair fight !
"Dead !" said the highwayman, passing his hand over the body of his fallen antagonist; and then with a rapidity which might almost have passed for sleight of hand, he managed to take from his pocket a small packet, and secrete it in his own, before he rose up from his apparent examination of the dead man.
He had won his prize, and taken the life of the one man whom, of all others he hated.
But whether he had accomplished his object is a different matter, and must wait to be discovered.
End of Chapter II.