Then, hat in hand, he asked Sir Peter's indulgence for a private conference with me, and led me away by the arm into a sweet-smelling lane, all thick with honeysuckle and candleberry shrub.
"Carus," he said, "this is painfully irregular. We are proceeding as passion dictates, not according to code. Mr. Butler has no choice but to accept, yet he is innocent of wrong intent, and has so informed me."
"Does he deny his marriage?" I asked.
"Yes, sir, most solemnly. The lady was his mistress, since discarded. He is quite guiltless of this affront to Sir Peter Coleville, and desires nothing better than to say so."
"That concerns us all," I said seriously. "I am acting for Sir Peter, and I assume the responsibility without consulting him. Where is Mr. Butler?"
"In the tap-room parlor."
"Say to him that Sir Peter will receive him in the coffee-room," I said quietly.
Jessop impulsively laid his honest hand upon my shoulder as we turned toward the tavern.
"Thank you, Carus," he said. "I am happy that I have to deal with you instead of some fire-eating, suspicious bullhead sniffing for secret mischief where none lies hid."
"I hear that Lady Coleville is come to stop the duel at any cost," I observed, halting at the door. "May we not hope to avoid a distressing scene, Jessop?"