Next morning, when the grey daylight was beginning faintly to show the dark courts and gloomy arcades of the Alcanzar, he sprung from his couch, which had been nothing else than his cloak laid on the polished floor tiles; and undergoing a hasty toilette, he was about to set forth in search of Macdonald, when Lieutenant Chisholm, one of the officers, entered.
"What! up already, Stuart?" said he; "I hope you are not on any duty?"
"No. Why?"
"Because Lisle has asked me to wait upon you."
"Upon me?" asked Ronald, with a frown of surprise. "Upon me, Chisholm?"
"Yes: of course you will remember what occurred in the cathedral last night?"
"How could I ever forget? Mr. Lisle, under its roof, insulted me most grossly," replied Ronald, his lips growing white with anger. "I was just about to seek Macdonald to give him a message, but Mr. Lisle has anticipated me."
"For Heaven's sake, Stuart, let us endeavour to settle this matter amicably! Think of the remorse which an honourable survivor must always feel. A hundred men slain in action are nothing to one life lost in a duel."
"Address these words to your principal,—they are lost on me; but you are an excellent fellow, Chisholm!"
"It is long since we have had an affair of this sort among us, and Cameron is quite averse to this mode of settling disputes."