t by great good fortune Dr. Leiden was shown in at this instant. And
the candles being lighted, he examined my neck, haranguing the while in
his vile English against the practice of duelling. He bade me keep my
bed for two days, thereby giving me no great pleasure.

"As I hope to live," said Mr. Carvel when the doctor was gone, "one would
have thought his Excellency himself had been pinked instead of a whip of
a lad, for the people who have been here. His Lordship and Dr. Courtenay
came before the hunt, and young Mr. Fotheringay, and half a score of
others. Mr. Swain is but now left to go to Baltimore on some barrister's
business."

I was burning to learn what the rector had said to Patty, but it was
plain Mr. Carvel knew nothing of this part of the story. He had not
mentioned Grafton among the callers. I wondered what course my uncle
would now pursue, that his plans to alienate me from my grandfather had
failed. And I began debating whether or not to lay the whole plot before
Mr. Carvel. Prudence bade me wait, since Grafton had not consorted with
the rector openly, at least--for more than a year. And yet I spoke.

"Mr. Carvel!"

He stirred in his chair.

"Yes, my son."

He had to repeat, and still I held my tongue. Even as I hesitated there
came a knock at the door, and Scipio entered, bearing candles.

"Massa Grafton, suh," he said.

My uncle was close at his heels. He was soberly dressed in dark brown
silk, and his face wore that expression of sorrow and concern he knew how
to assume at will. After greeting his father with his usual ceremony, he
came to my bedside and asked gravely how I did.

"How now, Grafton!" cried Mr. Carvel; "this is no funeral. The lad has
only a scratch, thank God!"

My uncle looked at me and forced a smile.

"Indeed I am rejoiced to find you are not worried over this matter,
father," said he. "I am but just back from Kent to learn of it, and
looked to find you in bed."

"Why, no, sir, I am not worried. I fought a duel in my own day,--over a
lass, it was."

This time Grafton's smile was not forced.

"Over a lass, was it?" he asked, and added in a tone of relief, "and how
do you, nephew?"

Mr. Carvel saved me from replying.

"'Od's life!" he cried; "no, I did not say this was over a lass. I have
heard the whole matter; how Captain Collinson, who is a disgrace to the
service, brought shame upon his Majesty's supporters, and how Richard
felled the young lord instead. I'll be