'A person,' said he, 'has been guilty of an action in regard to me, which it is neither consistent with my honour or my humour to put up with: I will shew you,' continued he, giving him an unsealed letter, 'what I have wrote to him upon the occasion; and that will instruct you how I intend to proceed, and, at the same time, convince you of the confidence I repose in your friendship.'
Mr. Munden took the letter out of his lordship's hands, and found the contents as follows.
'To William W——, Esq.
Sir,
Though the affront you have offered me deserves the severest treatment, yet, in consideration of our former intimacy, I shall wave my peerage, and require no other satisfaction from you than what any private gentleman has a right to demand of another, in a case of the like nature.
I shall be in the Green Park to-morrow about eight in the morning, where I believe you have honour enough to meet me: bring with you any one person you think fit; the gentleman who puts this into your hands will accompany me.
Not that I mean our friends should be engaged in the quarrel; but think it proper that there should be some witnesses that no foul play is attempted on either side. I am, expecting your ready compliance, Sir, yours, &c.
——.'
'You see, Munden,' said he, perceiving he had done reading, 'the assurance I build on the sincerity of your attachment to me.'—'Your lordship does me an infinity of honour,' replied the other with a low bow, 'and I have nothing to regret, but that my sword must lie idle while your lordship's is employed.'
'As for that,' resumed the peer, 'I always thought it the utmost folly and injustice to set two people on cutting one another's throats, merely in compliment to their friends: but, my dear Munden,' pursued he, looking on his watch, 'I would have you go immediately; I believe you will find him at the Cocoa Tree; he is generally there about this hour—but if not, they will direct you where to find him.'
He sealed the letter while he was speaking; which being again delivered to Mr. Munden, they both returned into the room where the ladies were. Mr. Munden stayed no longer than while his footman called a hackney-coach to the door; as he was going out, the nobleman said to him, 'I doubt not but you will be back as soon as possible; in the mean time we three will amuse ourselves with a game at ombre.'
Mrs. Munden was a good deal surprized at her husband's departure; but had much more reason to be so, as well as alarmed, in a moment or two after.
Cards were but just laid upon the table, when a servant came hastily, and told the lady a messenger had brought word that her mother was suddenly seized with an apoplectic fit; that it was not yet known whether the old lady would recover, and that she must come home that instant.
On this she started up, seemed in a most terrible fright, and took her leave with a precipitation natural enough to the occasion, in a daughter possessed of any share of duty or affection.
This part of the history must be very unintelligible indeed, if the reader has not by this time seen, that all this was but a feint contrivance by the amorous nobleman, in order to get an opportunity of employing the whole battery of his rhetorick against the virtue he was impatient to triumph over.