ed with temporary misgivings. For poor Mr. Prettyman,
he feared to stay, and dared not fly. If he could have forgotten the
danger he apprehended, his good natured friend by the studied
exaggerations in which he was continually clothing it, would have
perfectly succeed in refreshing his memory. But in reality it was never
absent from his thoughts. His slumbers were short and disturbed. And he
could scarcely close his eyes, ere the enraged lord Martin, with his sword
drawn, and his countenance flaming with inexorable fury, presented himself
to his affrighted imagination.

At length sir William by his generous interposition affected a compromise.
It was agreed that Mr. Prettyman should fall upon his knees before lord
Martin in the public room in the presence of Delia, and, asking his
pardon, put a small cane into his hand. "My lord," said sir William to the
beau, "is as generous as he is brave. He will not make an improper use of
the advantage you put into his hands. He will raise you from the humble
posture you will have assumed, and, embracing you cordially, all that is
past will be forgotten. As his lordship will take you under his
protection, not an individual will dare to reflect upon you." "Mr.
Prettyman," said sir William to lord Martin, "unites the heart of a
chicken to the most absolute skill in the small sword that ever I saw. I
have been only capable of restraining him by representing your lordship as
the most furious and impracticable of mankind. If he once suspect that I
have misrepresented you, a duel, in which I am afraid your lordship would
be overmatched, must be the inevitable consequence. Might I therefore
presume to advise, your lordship should make use of the advantage I have
gained you without mercy."

CHAPTER VI.

_Containing some Specimens of Heroism._

The evening now approached, in which the scene sir William Twyford had
with so much pains prepared, was to be acted. An imperfect rumour had
spread that something extraordinary was to pass in the public room. Miss
Prim was of opinion that a duel would be fought. "I shall be frightened
out of my wits," said she. "But I must go, for one loves any thing new,
and I believe there is nothing in it that a modest woman may not see."
Miss Gawky thought it would be a boxing match. "Bless us, my dear lord
Martin could stand no chance with that great lubberly macaroni." But Miss
Griskin, with a look of more than common sagacity, assured the ladies tha