a at the Little Falls Bridge. I had heard nothing from him
on the point of not returning the fire since the first communication to
that effect, eight days before. I had no reason to doubt the steadiness
of his determination, but felt a desire to have fresh assurance of it
after so many days' delay, and so near approach of the trying moment. I
knew it would not do to ask him the question--any question which would
imply a doubt of his word. His sensitive feelings would be hurt and
annoyed at it. So I fell upon a scheme to get at the inquiry without
seeming to make it. I told him of my visit to Mr. Clay the night
before--of the late sitting--the child asleep--the unconscious
tranquillity of Mrs. Clay; and added, I could not help reflecting how
different all that might be the next night. He understood me perfectly,
and immediately said, with a quietude of look and expression which
seemed to rebuke an unworthy doubt, _I shall do nothing to disturb the
sleep of the child or the repose of the mother_, and went on with his
employment . . . . which was, making codicils to his will, all in the
way of remembrance to friends. . . . . . . . . . . . I withdrew a little
way into the woods, and kept my eyes fixed on Mr. Randolph, who I then
knew to be the only one in danger. I saw him receive the fire of Mr.
Clay, saw the gravel knocked up in the same place, saw Mr. Randolph
raise his pistol--discharge it in the air; heard him say, _I do not fire
at you, Mr. Clay_; and immediately advancing and offering his hand. He
was met in the same spirit. They met halfway, shook hands, Mr. Randolph
saying, jocosely, _You owe me a coat, Mr. Clay_--(the bullet had passed
through the skirt of the coat, very near the hip)--to which Mr. Clay
promptly and happily replied, _I am glad the debt is no greater_. I had
come up and was prompt to proclaim what I had been obliged to keep
secret for eight days. The joy of all was extreme at this happy
termination of a most critical affair: and we immediately left, with
lighter hearts than we brought. . . . . . .

On Monday the parties exchanged cards, and social relations were
formally and courteously restored. It was about the last high-toned
duel that I have witnessed, and among the highest-toned that I have
ever witnessed; and so happily conducted to a fortunate issue--a
result due to the noble character of the seconds as well as to the
generous and heroic spirit of the principals. Certainly, duelling is
bad,