ed that
you are a villain!"

"That is news, indeed," said he; "and strange that the brother of
Clara should have been the messenger to convey it; but this is
language, Frank, which not even your unhappy state of mind can excuse.
Retract your words."

"I repeat them," said I. "You have trifled with my sister, and are a
villain." (Had this been true, it was no more than I had done myself;
but my victims had no brothers to avenge their wrongs.)

"The name of Clara," replied Talbot, "calms me; believe me, Frank,
you are mistaken. I love her, and have always had the most honourable
intentions towards her."

"Yes," said I, with a sarcastic sneer, "at the time that you have
been engaged to another woman for years. To one or the other you must
acknowledge yourself a scoundrel: I do not, therefore, withdraw my
appellation, but repeat it; and as you seem so very patient under
injuries, I inform you that you must either meet me on the sands this
evening, or consent to be stigmatised with another name still more
revolting to the feelings of an Englishman."

"Enough, enough, Frank," said Talbot, with a face, in which conscious
innocence and manly fortitude were blended; "you have said more than I
ever expected to have heard from you, and more than the customs of the
world will allow me to put up with. What must be, must; but I still
tell you, Frank, that you are wrong--that you are fatally deluded, and
that you will bitterly repent the follies of this day. It is yourself
with whom you are angry, and you are venting that anger on your
friend."

The words were thrown away on me. I felt a secret malignant pleasure,
which blindly impelled me forward, with the certainty of glutting my
revenge, by either destroying or being destroyed. My sole preparation
for this dreadful conflict was my pistols; no other did I think of,
not even the chances of sending my friend and fellow-mortal, or going
myself into the presence of an Almighty judge. My mind was absorbed in
secret pleasure, at the idea of that acute misery which Emily would
suffer if I fell by the hand of Talbot.

I repaired to the rendezvous, where I found Talbot waiting. He came up
to me, and again said,

"Frank, I call heaven to witness that you are mistaken. You are wrong.
Suspend your opinion, at least, if you will not recall your words."

Totally possessed by the devil, and not to be convinced, till too
late, I replied to his peaceful overture by the most insulting iro