My opponent did not lift his sword, but smilingly said:—
"Then why do you insist upon fighting? I certainly do not wish to kill you. In truth, I would be inclined to like you if you were not a Vernon."
"Damn your insolence! Guard! or I will run you through where you stand," I answered angrily.
"But why do we fight?" insisted the stubborn fellow, with a coolness that showed he was not one whit in fear of me.
"You should know," I replied, dropping my sword-point to the floor, and forgetting for the moment the cause of our quarrel. "I—I do not."
"Then let us not fight," he answered, "until we have discovered the matter of our disagreement."
At this remark neither of us could resist smiling. I had not fought since months before, save for a moment at the gates of Dundee, and I was loath to miss the opportunity, so I remained in thought during the space of half a minute and remembered our cause of war.
"Oh! I recall the reason for our fighting," I replied, "and a good one it was. You offered affront to the name of Sir George Vernon, and insultingly refused me the courtesy of your name after I had done you the honor to tell you mine."
"I did not tell you my name," replied the stranger, "because I believed you would not care to hear it; and I said I was glad not to know Sir George Vernon because—because he is my father's enemy. I am Sir John Manners. My father is Lord Rutland."
Then it was my turn to recede. "You certainly are right. I do not care to hear your name."