A Social Mis-adventure.

A gentleman mounted the damp steps of the club and swept by the man hired to keep anyone like him, out of there.

“Ere. You can’t go up th….” ’

‘Breaker’ Connolly reached out and put a hand on the man’s arm to restrain him, but then, when he next became conscious of anything, found that he was sitting on the hard steps wondering what had happened to put him there.

There were some people it was wiser not to challenge, and he’d discovered that this man was one of them.

He was probably a father, looking for his son, to save him from bad company, and it was all bad company in there.

As little as ‘Breaker’ liked what he did, working for that establishment, it paid well, and kept food on the table.

It did not pay well enough, however, to have him challenge the kind of man who had just put him down with barely any effort.

That was the first time he’d been put down like that in ten years, and he hadn’t even seen it coming, much like that time ten years earlier that had seen him retire from the ring.

‘Breaker’, slowly rose to his feet, angry, but sober, watching the man in front of him, ready to argue, but alarm bells began to go off in his mind and he held back; which was unusual for him. This was not the kind of man he was used to, in, or out of the ring. He also had a keen sense of self-preservation. He wondered if he shouldn’t recognize him.

He looked a lot like…. No… it couldn’t be him.

'He’d' quit London ten years earlier when things had got too hot, even for that man, after killing one man too many in a duel over some woman or other; a man’s slighted-daughter, or a frustrated, vengeful wife. He, was rumored to be dead. But he didn’t look dead, and…. It didn’t just look like him; it was him!

‘Breaker’, backed off a step.

He felt a surging anger, still holding a grudge from that ignominious defeat that had seen him retire from the ring, still puzzled over how that had happened.

The same man who had done that to him, and now, 'this', was watching him calmly from a few feet away with a smile on his face and was speaking in a low voice.

“I shall be up there for no more than fifteen minutes, Mr. Connolly.”

This man knew him? Of course, he did.

“No one should leave here in that time, and no one else should be admitted. Is that clear to you?” He waited.

“Speak, or nod your head.”

There was some people you did not argue with, and this gentleman was definitely one of ’em.

“You was clear, gov. What are…?” He was ignored after that first statement.

“Above all, young James Devray must not escape here without me. If he tries to leave, you will hold him for me until I emerge. If you detain him without too serious an injury to him, I will be grateful.

"If you do not detain him, I will be annoyed.”

He continued to look at ‘Breaker’.

“You may speak again, you know?”

'Breaker' found his tongue. “Young Mr. Devray, shall not leave here without you, guvnor.”

“Good. We understand each other.”

“We do.”

The man still smiled at him.

“I see you have an inkling of who I am, so you must know why am here?”

‘Breaker’ nodded to this older version of young James Devray. “I should have known it was you. I can guess why you’re here. Your nephew, with the same name.”

“One, and the same.” He moved deeper under cover as the rain began to come down again.

“Tell me about his friends who are with him at this moment. If I have some warning of them I many not need to be so violent. I would not like to be forced to deal with any of them in too bloody a way so soon, and be forced to leave these shores again.”

‘Breaker’ did not hesitate to describe the people with his nephew. He knew what ‘this’, Mr. Devray was capable of.

“Skinner; sallow looking man with a broken nose, opposite your nephew, upstairs, table by the… the… nude painting, is the one to watch. He carries a murderous knife up his left sleeve and a pistol in his right pocket. The other two are hangers-on. Deal with Skinner first, and they are gone.”

“Thank you.”

“He cheats.” ‘Breaker’, threw that in.

Devray paused. “Skinner, or my nephew?” A lot hung on the answer.

“Skinner!

"Your nevy… pardon my saying so, sir, wouldn’t know his knee from his elbow when it comes to what goes on in there.”

“Thank you. That is at least worth knowing.”

The older Devray mounted the stairs, drawn by the sounds of revelry and drunken singing from the upper floor.

This was exactly the kind of place he might expect to find his nephew, but his sudden arrival would not be greeted with any kind of welcome. His nephew undoubtedly believed that his uncle was still in India.

Devray entered the dim room and stayed by the wall for a moment until his eyes adjusted, and he’d located his relative in the gloom under the lurid and exaggerated portrait of an impossibly-endowed, naked woman. No one noticed him where he was, or would see how out of place he was.

Everyone in the large room was relatively young. He was pleased to note that there were no females of even that less respected—but essential profession— present, to be shocked by what he might have to do. They would arrive later, to be escorted home, or wherever they called home, or to some more secluded area for more personal negotiations.

He discerned his namesake. A younger version of himself in every way; his late brother’s son, and likely just as green as ‘he’ had been at that age, and as much of a disgrace to the family but in more damaging ways. He could save him from that.

His nephew would see him as an apparition from hell.

He was gambling, and he was losing heavily. He was even then, writing out another note, promising to pay… when he came into his inheritance in another few months. Unfortunately, his inheritance was going to be denied him for another couple of years at least, but young James didn’t know that yet.

Devray watched for some minutes, seeing how the hands were going, observing master Skinner, and seeing that his nephew was the worse for wear, having unwisely drunk too much for his own good. But ‘that’, had been the intent of his indolent companions who watched him with clear eyes, smiling at each other, anticipating their reward.

He also looked over the others at the table and sized them up. There were two of them that might try to object when he intervened, but they would be soon discouraged.

“I got your back, guvnor.”

‘Breaker’ had mounted the stairs after him, after locking the door, below.

James walked forward and laid his stick very firmly down onto the back of the hand of the man, Skinner; reaching out to recover the money and notes in the middle of the table.

“Not so fast, my friend.”

The silence extended for a full ten seconds as they all studied the stranger.

“Uncle!” His nephew recognized him with a horrified gasp, pushing his chair back. “But you are still….”

“Abroad?” He did not take his eyes from Skinner. “No. I set foot ashore this morning and was told where I might find you, so I came to have a word. I see I came just in time. Do you not know better than to play with those who cheat?”

Everyone within earshot of that comment was shocked into silence, and there was a nervous giggle from somewhere.

Here, was a truly foolhardy man.

A wise man never accused another of cheating, or he could expect trouble.

Master Skinner withdrew his hand and reached into his left sleeve.

At the same time, three things happened almost simultaneously, and too fast for the eye to follow easily.

James left arm smashed across the face of the man beside him to the left, knocking him to the floor; he turned, his stick swinging with devastating speed and force, into Skinner’s face, breaking his nose yet again, along with bones in his cheek, and then that same stick took out the third man at that table, across his neck.

Skinner stumbled back against the wall, fumbling in his pocket, fighting against the pain and the tears in his eyes, drawing his pistol from his pocket, only to drop it when the sword part of the stick drove through his right shoulder and into the portrait behind him, pinning him there.

The room had gone deathly quiet.

‘Breaker’ was watching the rest of the room, now that Mr. Devray had everything at that table under control.

Devray retrieved his sword stick and re-sheathed it after wiping it off on Skinner’s sleeve, seeing the young man slide to the floor, still alive but very unhappy; relieving master Skinner of his knife and pistol, seeing how his sword had marred the painting; adding a touch of anatomical reality between the young lady’s legs by opening up, suggestively and realistically, what had been crudely painted there.

“Come, Nephew. You and I shall talk about your immediate future and decide if you deserve one.”

It did not sound promising.

As he walked away, he looked at the persons on the ground, and then at ‘Breaker’.

“This place is not your style, ‘Breaker’. You know my direction. I have a job for you.”

‘Breaker’ nodded, retrieving everything from the table, loading his pockets, and then followed the two downstairs to let them out, and to follow discreetly behind.

His work here was ended, but another future had just opened up for him.

He’d leave everything from the table in possession of Mr. Devray, for him to see and look over, but would hang onto that pistol and the knife.

When Mr. Devray said he would be grateful, he meant it.