In this way passed the hours long after midnight, when, one by one, the guests retired to their rooms; Forester remaining at the table in compliance with a signal which Daly had made him, until at length Hickman O'Reilly stood up to go, the last of all, save Daly and the young guardsman.
Passing round the table, he leaned over Forester's chair, and in a low, cautious whisper, said, “You have put down the greatest bully in this country, Captain Forester; do not spoil your victory by being drawn into a disreputable quarrel! Good night, gentlemen both,” said he, aloud, and with a polite bow left the room.
“What was that he whispered?” said Daly, as the door closed and they were left alone together.
Forester repeated the words.
“Ah, I guessed why he sat so late; he sees the game clearly enough. You, sir, have taken up the glaive that was thrown down for his son's acceptance, and he knows the consequence—clever fellow that he is! Had you been less prompt, Beecham's poltroonery might have escaped notice; and even now, if you were to decline a meeting—”
“But I have no intention of doing any such thing.”
“Of course, I never supposed you had; but were you to be swayed by wrong counsels and do so, Master Beecham would be saved even yet. Well, well, I am sorry, Captain Forester, you should have met such a reception amongst us, and my friend Darcy will be deeply grieved at it. However, we have other occupation now than vain regret, so to bed as fast as you can, and to sleep; the morning is not very far off, and we shall have some one from MacDonough here by daybreak.”
With a cordial shake-hands, like men who already knew and felt kindly towards each other, they separated for the night.
While Forester was thus sensible of the manliness and straightforward resolution that marked Bagenal Daly's character, he was very far from feeling satisfied with the position in which he found himself placed. A duel under any circumstances is scarcely an agreeable incident in one's life; but a meeting whose origin is at a drinking-bout, and where the antagonist is a noted fire-eater, and by that very reputation discreditable, is still a great aggravation of the evil.
To have embroiled himself in a quarrel of this kind would, he well knew, greatly prejudice him in the estimation of his cold-tempered relative, Lord Castlereagh, who would not readily forgive an indiscretion that should mar his own political views. As he sat in his dressing-room revolving such unpleasant reflections, there came a gentle tap at the door; he had but time to say, “Come in,” when Mr. Hickman O'Reilly entered.