"As a matther of cour-rse!" answered the Captain. "A famous duellist like Misther Curtis, can't be at a loss on a point of honour."
"But why the devil should I fight you?" demanded the young gentleman, his heart palpitating audibly.
"Why the devil shouldn't ye?" vociferated Captain O'Blunderbuss. "Answer me that, my frind?"
"My dear sir—it's really—I mean, you—that is to say, I think, with all due deference——" stammered Frank, growing every moment more and more alarmed.
"Be Jasus! I've said nothing I don't mane to stick to!" exclaimed the martial gentleman, now assuming an expression of countenance so fierce that Frank Curtis began to have serious misgivings that his visitor intended to assault him then and there.
"But, my dear Captain——this proceeding——" said Frank, assuming a tone of excruciating politeness.
"Is going on beautifully, Misther Curtis. And so, as you seem to have a little delicacy in putting yourself too for-rward in the matther," continued the Captain, "we'll jist say Battersea Fields, to-morrow mornin', at eight o'clock. Good bye, Misther Curtis."
With these words the Captain took up his hat, and stalked majestically out of the room, banging the door violently after him.
Frank Curtis fell back in his bed, and gave vent to his feelings in a deep groan.
The door opened again with a crash; and the Captain thrust in his inflamed visage, exclaiming, "Ye'll remember, Misther Curtis, that I hould ye responsible in this matther; and that if ye can't bring the uncle to the scratch, ye must come yourself; or, be Jasus! I'll be afther ye to the inds of the ear-rth!"