"Went to bed hours since and very rightly, seeing what's toward."
"As what, George?"
"His forthcoming duel with Dalroyd." The Major sat suddenly upright.
"A duel with—Dalroyd!"
"What, didn't ya' know?"
"Not a word."
"Why true, it only happened this evening."
"And when do they fight?"
"That's the curst queer thing about the affair. I don't know, he don't know—nobody knows but Dalroyd. 'Tis a black business, Jack, a black business and looks ill for the lad!"
"Aye!" said the Major, rising and beginning to pace to and fro. "Pray tell me of it, George."