ery nerve in his body seemed to be
twitching; he looked very like the young boy who used to sit at the
dinner-table on Crimean nights and listen in a quiver to the appalling
stories of his father's guests. As he had been silent then, so he was
silent now. He waited for Captain Plessy to speak. Captain Plessy,
however, was in no hurry to begin. He had completely lost his air of
contemptuous raillery, he was measuring Faversham warily with the eyes
of a connoisseur.

"You have insulted me," he said abruptly, and he heard again that
indrawing of the breath which he had remarked that afternoon in the
cellar. He also heard Faversham speak immediately after he had drawn
the breath.

"There are reparations for insults," said Faversham.

Captain Plessy bowed. He was now almost as sober as when he had sat
down to his dinner.

"We will choose a time and place," said he.

"There can be no better time than now," suddenly cried Faversham, "no
better place than this. You have two friends of whom with your leave I
will borrow one. We have a large room and a candle apiece to fight
by. To-morrow my duties begin again. We will fight to-night, Captain
Plessy, to-night," and he leaned forward almost feverishly, his words
had almost the accent of a prayer. The two subalterns rose from their
chairs, but Plessy motioned them to keep still. Then he seized the
candle which he had himself blown out, lighted it from the candle at
the far end of the table and held it up above his head so that
the light fell clearly upon Faversham's face. He stood looking at
Faversham for an appreciable time. Then he said quietly,

"I will not fight you to-night."

One of the subalterns started up, the other merely turned his head
towards Plessy, but both stared at their Captain with an unfeigned
astonishment and an unfeigned disappointment. Faversham continued to
plead.

"But you must to-night, for to-morrow you cannot. To-night I am alone
here, to-night I give orders, to-morrow I receive them. You have your
sword at your side to-night. Will you be wearing it to-morrow? I pray
you gentlemen to help me," he said turning to the subalterns, and he
began to push the heavy table from the centre of the room.

"I will not fight you to-night, Lieutenant," Captain Plessy replied.

"And why?" asked Faversham ceasing from his work. He made a gesture
which had more of despair than of impatience.

Captain Plessy gave his reason. It rang false to every man in the