“By God I do, and I mean to know the truth!”
“Who knew of it?”
“My cousin,” said Peregrine. “But I did not tell him the place of rendezvous—of that I am perfectly certain! How he found that out, if it was he—”
“But, Perry, surely he wouldn’t inform the magistrates if you told him in confidence, which I suppose you must have?”
“I don’t know, but I shall find out!” said Peregrine, buttoning up his greatcoat.
Mr. Fitzjohn turned with sudden suspicion to the doctor, who was standing beside them. “I take it you know nothing of this, Lane?”
The doctor replied in a dry tone: “I did not lay information against your principal, sir, but I am forced to admit that it may be through me that this duel has been interrupted. If it was so I cannot regret it, though I certainly did not intend it.”
“What the devil do you mean?” said Mr. Fitzjohn.
The doctor tucked his case of instruments under his arm. “Yesterday, sir,” he said, “not long after you called on me, I received a visit from another gentleman requiring my services in an affair of honour to-day. I told him that it was quite out of my power, since I was already engaged. He gave me to understand that he was acting as second to your opponent—a fact I could readily believe, as it would be an odd, almost an unprecedented occurrence, for two duels to be fought in London upon the same day. I informed this gentleman that I could not disclose the name of my principal, though I should have no objection to attending his man as well if he should prove to be the unknown adversary. He realized the propriety of my scruples, and at once made it plain to me that he was conversant with your affair by giving me the names of yourself and Sir Peregrine Taverner. I said that I should be happy to do what I could for his principal, and, as I recollect, we fell into some slight conversation, during the course of which I might easily mention the place of rendezvous. When your opponent came on to the ground, sir, and I perceived his friend to be totally unlike my visitor, I own I felt surprise. But upon reflection I could not recollect that my visitor actually stated that he was acting as a second in the affair, and I concluded that I had misunderstood him, and that he had come to me in place of the second.”
“What was he like?” demanded Peregrine, who had listened to this speech with considerable impatience. “Was he tall, rather dark, and elegantly dressed?”