“Well, Master Purvis,” said Norwood, drawing his arm within his own, “if you can't be the 'doctor,' you shall at least be the 'second.' This is a dodge of mine; so come along, and no more about it.”
“But I ca-can't; I never was—I never could be a se-se-second.”
“You shall begin to-day, then, or my name's not Norwood. You've been the cause of a whole series of mishaps and misfortunes; and, by Jove! if the penalty were a heavier one, you should pay it.”
“I tell you, I n-never saw a duel; I—I never f-fought one; I never will fight one; I don't even know how they g-go about it.”
“You shall learn, sir, that 's all,” said Norwood, as he hastened along, dragging the miserable Purvis at his side.
“But for you, sir,” continued he, in a voice thick with passion,—“but for you, sir, and your inveterate taste for prying into what does not concern you, we should have experienced no delay nor disappointment this morning. The consequences are, that I shall have to stand where another ought to have stood, and take to myself a quarrel in which I have had no share.”
“H-how is that? Do——do——do tell me all about it!” cried Purvis, eagerly.
“I 'll tell you nothing, sir, not a syllable. Your personal adventures on this morning must be the subject of your revelations when you get back to Florence, if ever you do get back.”