'"Well," said my uncle, as he looked about him, "a mail travelling at
the rate of six miles and a half an hour, and stopping for an indefinite
time at such a hole as this, is rather an irregular sort of proceeding,
I fancy. This shall be made known. I'll write to the papers."

'My uncle said this in a pretty loud voice, and in an open, unreserved
sort of manner, with the view of engaging the two strangers in
conversation if he could. But, neither of them took any more notice of
him than whispering to each other, and scowling at him as they did so.
The lady was at the farther end of the room, and once she ventured to
wave her hand, as if beseeching my uncle's assistance.

'At length the two strangers advanced a little, and the conversation
began in earnest.

'"You don't know this is a private room, I suppose, fellow?" said the
gentleman in sky-blue.

'"No, I do not, fellow," rejoined my uncle. "Only, if this is a private
room specially ordered for the occasion, I should think the public room
must be a VERY comfortable one;" with this, my uncle sat himself down in
a high-backed chair, and took such an accurate measure of the gentleman,
with his eyes, that Tiggin and Welps could have supplied him with
printed calico for a suit, and not an inch too much or too little, from
that estimate alone.

'"Quit this room," said both men together, grasping their swords.

'"Eh?" said my uncle, not at all appearing to comprehend their meaning.

'"Quit the room, or you are a dead man," said the ill-looking fellow
with the large sword, drawing it at the same time and flourishing it in
the air.

'"Down with him!" cried the gentleman in sky-blue, drawing his sword
also, and falling back two or three yards. "Down with him!" The lady
gave a loud scream.

'Now, my uncle was always remarkable for great boldness, and great
presence of mind. All the time that he had appeared so indifferent to
what was going on, he had been looking slily about for some missile or
weapon of defence, and at the very instant when the swords were drawn,
he espied, standing in the chimney-corner, an old basket-hilted rapier
in a rusty scabbard. At one bound, my uncle caught it in his hand, drew
it, flourished it gallantly above his head, called aloud to the lady to
keep out of the way, hurled the chair at the man in sky-blue, and
the scabbard at the man in plum-colour, and taking advantage of the
confusion, fell upon them both, pell-mell.

'Gentlemen, the