“‘Eight o’clock in the morning.
“‘Sir,—A desire for harmony and peace, which has at all times actuated my conduct, prevented me, yesterday, from asking you the meaning of the short and contemptuous message which you commissioned me to deliver to a certain young lady of our acquaintance whose name I do not choose to drag into a correspondence. But, now that there is no danger of its disturbing anyone, I must say that in your desiring me to tell that young lady she might consider herself as d——d, when she asked you to tea after inadvertently riding over you in the hunting field, you were guilty of conduct highly unbecoming of an officer and a gentleman, and subversive of the discipline of the hunt. I have the honour to be, sir,
“‘Your most obedient humble servant,
“‘Robert Burke.
“‘P.S.—This note will be delivered to you by my friend, Major Mug, of the 3rd West Indian; and you will, I trust, see the propriety of referring him to another gentleman without further delay.’
“‘That, I think, is neat,’ said the Major. ‘Now, seal it with wax, Mr. Burke, with wax—and let the seal be your arms. That’s right. Now direct it.’
“‘Ensign Brady?’
“‘No—no—the right thing would be, ‘Mr. Brady, Ensign, 48th Foot,’ but custom allows ‘Esquire,’ that will do.—‘Thady Brady, Esquire, Ensign, 48th Foot, Barracks, Mallow.’ He shall have it in less than a quarter of an hour.’
“The Major was as good as his word, and in about half-an-hour he brought back the result of his mission. The Ensign, he told us, was extremely reluctant to fight, and wanted to be off on the ground that he meant no offence, did not even remember having used the expression, and offered to ask the lady if she conceived for a moment he had any idea of saying anything but what was complimentary to her.
“‘In fact,’ said the Major, ‘he at first plumply refused to fight; but I soon brought him to reason. ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘you either consent to fight or refuse to fight. In the first case, the thing is settled to hand, and we are not called upon to inquire if there was an affront or not—in the second case, your refusal to comply with a gentleman’s request is, of itself, an offence for which he has a right to call you out. Put it, then, on the grounds, you must fight him, it is perfectly indifferent to me what the grounds may be; and I have only to request the name of your friend, as I too much respect the coat you wear to think that there can be any other alternative.’ This brought the chap to his senses, and he referred me to Captain Codd, of his own regiment, at which I felt much pleased, because Codd is an intimate friend of my own, he and I having fought a duel three years ago in Falmouth, in which I lost the top of this little finger, and he his left whisker. It was a near touch, he is as honourable a man as ever paced a ground; and I am sure that he will no more let his man off the field until business is done than I would myself.’