"My dear colonel, I will risk a rebuke from the Admiralty," replied the captain, "rather than not allow you to heal your wounded honour. I will stay till the day after tomorrow, should it be requisite for the arrangement of this business."
"Thank you, many thanks," replied the colonel, with an expression of disappointment. "Then I had better prepare the letter?"
"Carta por senhor commandante," interrupted a Portuguese, presenting a letter to the colonel; "O senhor embaixo; queir risposta."
The colonel opened the letter, which contained Mr Sullivan's challenge,—pistols—tomorrow morn, at daylight—one mile on the road to Machico.
The colonel's countenance changed two or three shades less yellow as he read the contents: recovering himself with a giggle, he handed the letter to Captain Carrington.
"You see, captain, the gentleman has saved me the trouble—He, he, he! these little affairs are common to gentlemen of our profession—He, he! and, since the gentleman wishes it, why, I presume—He, he! that we must not disappoint him."
"Since you are both of one mind, I think there will be some business done," observed Mr S——. "I perceive that he is in earnest by the place named for the meeting. We generally settle our affairs of honour in the Loo-fields; but I suppose he is afraid of interruption.—They want an answer, colonel."
"Oh! he shall have one," replied the colonel, tittering with excitement; "he shall have one. What hour does he say?"
"Oh, we will arrange all that. Come, colonel," said Captain Carrington, taking him familiarly by the arm, and leading him away.
The answer was despatched, and they sat down to dinner. Many were the friendly and encouraging glasses of wine drank with the colonel, who recovered his confidence, and was then most assiduous in his attentions to the ladies, to prove his perfect indifference. He retired at an early hour, nevertheless.