"In Battersea Fields, to-morrow morning, at eight precisely," answered Frank.
"Very good," said the lawyer. "Now, you must be with me at a quarter before seven—here, at my office; and I will have a chaise ready to take us there."
"But need we go at all?" asked Frank, his countenance suddenly assuming a woeful expression again.
"We must go to the field," replied the solicitor; "but trust to me to settle the matter when we do get there. Again I tell you not to make yourself uneasy: I will guarantee the complete settlement of the affair—and in a most peremptory manner too."
"Thank'ee kindly," returned Frank, again reassured. "You have taken a load from my breast: not that I care about fighting, you know—but it must be in a good cause. That was just what I said when my best friend, the Prince of Scandinavia——"
"There's enough of it for the present, Frank," interrupted the lawyer. "Leave the affair to me—and I shall manage it to your complete satisfaction. Be here at a quarter to seven—not a minute later—to-morrow morning,—and now you must permit me to attend to my own engagements."
Frank Curtis took the hint and his leave accordingly, wondering how the lawyer would so manage matters as to subdue the terrible fire-eating propensities of the redoubtable Captain O'Blunderbuss. Nevertheless, the young man placed implicit reliance upon Mr. Howard's promise; and it was with a comparatively light heart that he sped towards use dwelling of Mrs. Goldberry, in Baker Street.
CHAPTER LXIII.
THE MEETING IN BATTERSEA FIELDS.
According to instructions given to his landlady, Mr. Frank Curtis was called at a quarter to six on the morning following the incidents just related; and leaping from his warm bed, he proceeded, with quivering limbs and chattering teeth, to strike a light.
Having, after a great deal of trouble, persuaded the short wick of his candle to catch the flame of the match which he held to it, he drew aside the window-curtains and looked forth to ascertain the nature of the weather.