‘No apology, I suppose?’ said Mr. Westwood.
‘Not a syllable, sir, from my man, if we talk till doomsday,’ returned the captain. ‘The original cause of dispute, I understand, was some girl or other, to whom your principal applied certain terms, which Lord Frederick, defending the girl, repelled. But this led to a long recrimination upon a great many sore subjects, charges, and counter-charges. Sir Mulberry was sarcastic; Lord Frederick was excited, and struck him in the heat of provocation, and under circumstances of great aggravation. That blow, unless there is a full retraction on the part of Sir Mulberry, Lord Frederick is ready to justify.’
‘There is no more to be said,’ returned the other, ‘but to settle the hour and the place of meeting. It’s a responsibility; but there is a strong feeling to have it over. Do you object to say at sunrise?’
‘Sharp work,’ replied the captain, referring to his watch; ‘however, as this seems to have been a long time breeding, and negotiation is only a waste of words, no.’
‘Something may possibly be said, out of doors, after what passed in the other room, which renders it desirable that we should be off without delay, and quite clear of town,’ said Mr. Westwood. ‘What do you say to one of the meadows opposite Twickenham, by the river-side?’
The captain saw no objection.
‘Shall we join company in the avenue of trees which leads from Petersham to Ham House, and settle the exact spot when we arrive there?’ said Mr Westwood.
To this the captain also assented. After a few other preliminaries, equally brief, and having settled the road each party should take to avoid suspicion, they separated.
‘We shall just have comfortable time, my lord,’ said the captain, when he had communicated the arrangements, ‘to call at my rooms for a case of pistols, and then jog coolly down. If you will allow me to dismiss your servant, we’ll take my cab; for yours, perhaps, might be recognised.’
What a contrast, when they reached the street, to the scene they had just left! It was already daybreak. For the flaring yellow light within, was substituted the clear, bright, glorious morning; for a hot, close atmosphere, tainted with the smell of expiring lamps, and reeking with the steams of riot and dissipation, the free, fresh, wholesome air. But to the fevered head on which that cool air blew, it seemed to come laden with remorse for time misspent and countless opportunities neglected. With throbbing veins and burning skin, eyes wild and heavy, thoughts hurried and disordered, he felt as though the light were a reproach, and shrunk involuntarily from the day as if he were some foul and hideous thing.