The first was a tall, muscular man, with a phlegmatic face, light hair, and huge red whiskers. His blue frock-coat was buttoned to the throat, and he carried an oblong box in his hands.
"Joanna's brother!" ejaculated Beverly.
The second person was a dapper little gentleman, with small eyes, a hooked nose, and an enormous black moustache. He was dressed in black, with a gold chain on his breast, and a diamond pin in his faultless shirt bosom.
"Major Barton!" ejaculated Beverly, bounding from his seat, for in Major Barton he recognized an old and intimate acquaintance.
"Robert," said Eugene, turning to Joanna's brother, "what have you there?"
"The dueling pistols," quietly responded Robert.
"Have you and this gentleman's friend arranged the preliminaries?"
"We have," interrupted the dapper Major; "distance, ten paces,—place, Weehawk, opposite the city,—time, right off."
"This without consulting me!" cried Beverly, who at the mention of a duel, felt a hope lighten up in his heart, for coward as he was, he was also a capital shot.
"Gentlemen, I beg to say,——" he drew his White Monk's robe over his heart, and assumed a grand air,—"gentlemen,——"