don, which I prepared in a feigned
hand, and in which I gave a solemn warning to Lord George Poynings to
quit the country; saying that the great prize was never meant for the
likes of him, and that there were heiresses enough in England, without
coming to rob them out of the domains of Captain Fireball. The letter
was written on a dirty piece of paper, in the worst of spelling: it came
to my Lord by the post-conveyance, and, being a high-spirited young man,
he of course laughed at it.

As ill-luck would have it for him, he appeared in Dublin a very short
time afterwards; was introduced to the Chevalier Redmond Barry, at the
Lord Lieutenant's table; adjourned with him and several other gentlemen
to the club at 'Daly's,' and there, in a dispute about the pedigree of
a horse, in which everybody said I was in the right, words arose, and
a meeting was the consequence. I had had no affair in Dublin since
my arrival, and people were anxious to see whether I was equal to my
reputation. I make no boast about these matters, but always do them when
the time comes; and poor Lord George, who had a neat hand and a quick
eye enough, but was bred in the clumsy English school, only stood before
my point until I had determined where I should hit him.

My sword went in under his guard, and came out at his back. When he
fell, he good-naturedly extended his hand to me, and said, 'Mr. Barry, I
was wrong!' I felt not very well at ease when the poor fellow made this
confession: for the dispute had been of my making, and, to tell the
truth, I had never intended it should end in any other way than a
meeting.

He lay on his bed for four months with the effects of that wound;
and the same post which conveyed to Lady Lyndon the news of the duel,
carried her a message from Captain Fireball to say, 'This is NUMBER
ONE!'

'You, Ulick,' said I, 'shall be NUMBER TWO.'

''Faith,' said my cousin, 'one's enough:' But I had my plan regarding
him, and determined at once to benefit this honest fellow, and to
forward my own designs upon the widow.

CHAPTER XV. I PAY COURT TO MY LADY LYNDON

As my uncle's attainder was not reversed for being out with the
Pretender in 1745, it would have been inconvenient for him to accompany
his nephew to the land of our ancestors; where, if not hanging, at least
a tedious process of imprisonment, and a doubtful pardon, would have
awaited the good old gentleman. In any important crisis of my life, his
advice was