"My adversary's second may desire to cross swords with you, Tom," remarked Lord Claud as he began to undress. "'Tis a foolish habit; but you must not seem to shrink. Show him that you care nothing for his sword, and I will then interpose to stop the second fight. It may not be offered; but, again, it may."
And, as the pair prepared for bed, the elder man instructed his companion in all the details of duelling, that he might be prepared to play his part on the morrow with confidence and aplomb.
"I have a few excellent rules of my own, Tom, and I have never been worsted once, and only once wounded. I neither drink, nor dice, nor dance, nor weary myself the previous day. I go overnight to the place of meeting, and I retire to bed early and sleep sound. I take a modest breakfast, without wine or spirit, an hour before the meeting; and I come to the ground with a head as cool and a hand as steady as though no such thing as danger or death existed in the world. Some men pride themselves on sitting up and dicing and drinking away the night, to show their own courage and their contempt for their adversary. I prefer to show mine by leaving him prostrate on the field!"
It certainly seemed as though Lord Claud's methods were good, for he slept like a child all night, better than Tom did, who had been greatly excited by the events of the day and the prospect of the morrow; and when he was dressed upon the following morning, still in his sober riding suit that became him so well, Tom thought he had never seen anybody looking so thoroughly master of himself and his circumstances. The very glance of the eye seemed to bespeak victory, as did the quiet resolution of the grave mouth.
Breakfast over--an early meal taken by the light of candles, yet excellent of its kind--and the pair went forth together, Tom carrying the two rapiers, as it was his duty to do.
The sun was just about to rise, and the mists lying over the river and fields were growing silver in the light, as they came in sight of the group of elms which had seen so many foolish and bloody contests between angry men, some of whom scarce knew why they fought at all, save that it was the fashion.
From the opposite direction three other figures were approaching--two tall men and one little one.
"They bring a surgeon," quoth Lord Claud, with a smile on his face; "perchance they are wise. For myself, I never trouble to do so. I count a leech a needless encumbrance."
Tom looked curiously at the two foremost men as they drew near. One of them struck him in particular. He was very tall and very strongly made, though clumsy in figure and swarthy in face. He had the look almost of a foreigner, Tom thought, with black eyes that twinkled with an evil and sinister expression, and never showed more than as a slit between half-shut lids. He was marked with smallpox, and had taken no pains, today at any rate, to disguise the ravages of that malady. He walked a little in advance of his companions, and when he got near to Lord Claud he stopped and made a sweeping bow, his eyes the while scanning Tom's face and figure most closely.
"This is not the gentleman who waited on me," he said in a rasping voice.