Having broken the seal, Daniel read to himself,—“A gentleman wishes to see Mr Cathie at the Salutation Inn, on particular business, as speedily as possible. Inquire for the gentleman in No. 7.—A quarter before nine, A.M.”
“Some of these dunning travellers!” exclaimed Daniel to himself. “They are continually pestering me for orders. If I had the lighting up of the moon, I could not satisfy them all. I have a good mind not to go, for this fellow not sending his name. It is impudence with a vengeance, and a new way of requesting favours!” As he was muttering these thoughts between his teeth, however, he was proceeding in the almost unconscious act of undoing his apron, which having flung aside, he adjusted his hair before the glass, carefully pressed his hat into shape, and drew it down on his temples with both hands; after which, with hasty steps, he vanished from behind the counter.
Arriving at the inn, he was ushered into No. 7 by the officious Bill, who handed his name before him, and closed the door after him.
“This is an unpleasant business, Mr Cathie,” said the swaggering captain, drawing himself up to his full length, and putting on a look of important ferocity. “It is needless to waste words on the subject: there is a brace of pistols, both are loaded,—take one, and I take the other; choose either, sir. The room is fully eight paces,” added he, striding across in a hurried manner, and clanking his iron heels on the carpet.
“It would, I think, be but civil,” said Daniel, evidently in considerable mental as well as bodily agitation, “to inform me what are your intentions, before forcing me to commit murder. Probably you have mistaken me for some other; if not, please let me know in what you conceive I have offended you!”
“By the powers!” said Captain Thwackeray with great vehemence, “you have injured me materially,—nay, mortally,—and either your life, sir, or my own, sir, shall be sacrificed to the adjustment.”
While saying this, the captain took up first the one pistol, and then the other, beating down the contents with the ramrod, and measuring with his finger the comparative depth to which each was loaded.
“A pretty story, certainly, to injure a gentleman in the tenderest part, and then to beg a recital of the particulars. Have you no regard for my feelings, sir?”
“Believe me, sir, on the word of an honest man, that as to your meaning in this business, I am in utter darkness,” said Daniel with cool firmness.
“To be plain, then,—to be explicit,—to come to the point, sir,—are you not on the eve of marrying Mrs Bouncer?”