“Are you the writer of this challenge, directed to Col. Anglesea, and bearing your signature?” queried Mr. Force, passing over the document in question to the young man.
“Yes, sir, I am the author of that challenge,” said Le, after a glance at the paper.
“You have heard the charge laid against you. What have you to say in defense?” questioned the squire.
“Nothing. The charge is substantially true, barring the bad names with which the witness has complimented me. I deny that I am a ‘warmint,’ a ‘wild cat,’ a ‘wolf,’ a ‘tiger,’ a ‘panther’ or a ‘rhine-horse-o-rus,’” said Le, laughing; “but I wrote the challenge, and I intended to fight the duel.”
“You admit this?”
“Entirely.”
“That will do. Sit down.”
Le dropped into the only vacant chair, and awaited the next move.
“Roland Bayard, come forward,” said the squire.
The young man came, and stood respectfully before the squire.