nor less than an invitation to single combat; and the
bearer thereof, with the suave politeness enjoined by etiquette on such
well-bred homicidal occasions, suggested the expediency of appointing
the place of meeting in the neighbourhood of London, in order to prevent
interference from the suspicious authorities of Lansmere.

The natives of some countries--the warlike French in particular--think
little of that formal operation which goes by the name of DUELLING.
Indeed, they seem rather to like it than otherwise. But there is nothing
your thorough-paced Englishman--a Hazeldean of Hazeldean--considers with
more repugnance and aversion than that same cold-blooded ceremonial. It
is not within the range of an Englishman's ordinary habits of thinking.
He prefers going to law,--a much more destructive proceeding of the two.
Nevertheless, if an Englishman must fight, why, he will fight. He says
"It is very foolish;" he is sure "it is most unchristianlike;" he agrees
with all that Philosophy, Preacher, and Press have laid down on the
subject; but he makes his will, says his prayers, and goes out--like a
heathen.

It never, therefore, occurred to the squire to show the white feather
upon this unpleasant occasion. The next day, feigning excuse to attend
the sale of a hunting stud at Tattersall's, he ruefully went up to
London, after taking a peculiarly affectionate leave of his wife.
Indeed, the squire felt convinced that he should never return home
except in a coffin. "It stands to reason," said he to himself, "that
a man who has been actually paid by the King's Government for shooting
people ever since he was a little boy in a midshipman's jacket, must
be a dead hand at the job. I should not mind if it was with
double-barrelled Mantons and small shot; but ball and pistol, they are
n't human nor sportsmanlike!" However, the squire, after settling his
worldly affairs, and hunting up an old college friend who undertook to
be his second, proceeded to a sequestered corner of Wimbledon Common,
and planted himself, not sideways, as one ought to do in such encounters
(the which posture the squire swore was an unmanly way of shirking),
but full front to the mouth of his adversary's pistol, with such sturdy
composure that Captain Dashmore, who, though an excellent shot, was at
bottom as good-natured a fellow as ever lived, testified his admiration
by letting off his gallant opponent with a ball in the fleshy part of
the shoulder, after