"It's a pity you can't square matters without fighting," Mr. Dickinson said.
He was the good-natured, easy-going man who had been in the jeweller's shop on that day when Sir Maxwell had first had his evil suspicions roused.
"It's a pity, but Sir Maxwell is bent upon fighting, so the sooner it is over, the better. He is an old hand--and you? Can you handle a sword?"
"It is proposed to have a round with swords. The place--Claverton Down, out Widcombe way; the time--dawn, to-morrow. It is Sunday, by-the-bye, and we are safe not to be hindered. What answer shall I take to Danby?"
"Say I am ready," Leslie said; "ready--aye, ready!"
"You don't feel inclined for a compromise, then?"
"No, I do not. He has heaped insults on me which I have overlooked, but he has dared to slander one whom I love better than life. Do you suppose I can brook that?"
"Dear! dear!" exclaimed Mr. Dickinson. "Women are the bottom of half the mischief that is brewed in the world, I do believe."
Mr. Dickinson had not been gone long before Mr. Beresford arrived. He ran in to the Herschels to excuse himself from accompanying them to Bristol, saying he had urgent business, and then returned to his friend.
All the arrangements were made, and the utmost secrecy agreed on.
"No one need know"--hesitating--"certainly not Miss Mainwaring or my mother. I will employ to-day in setting my house in order, and leave letters behind me."
"Don't say 'behind me,' man. Hundreds of people who fight do not get a scratch. You will be all right, and marry the lady, and live happy ever after."
"I am in no jesting mood, Beresford; and although you profess to look on the whole affair as a joke, you do not do so, in your secret heart. You do not forget, any more than I do, that last month we walked together to Claverton Down to see the spot where Viscount Barré asked for his life of Count Rice, not much over a year ago."[1]
[Footnote 1: See "DUELLING ON CLAVERTON DOWN." ]
"Ah! that was a different matter. We are to have no pistols, only a little sword-play. I hope one of Danby's evil eyes may be put out, and, better still, his tongue slit. Aim at his mouth, with that end in view. Yes, try for the mouth and eyes, Travers."
"Has the matter got wind in Bath?" Leslie asked.