at all events," said Creed, justly
wroth at what was, after all, a sophism; for if a man is not a man at
twenty, he never will be one.

"_Tant mieux_. You know, I suppose, that as the challenged, I have the
choice of weapons?"

"Of course, sir," said Creed, in an off-hand generous tone, because he
did not very clearly know.

"Then, sir, I always fight across a handkerchief. You will tell Mr.
Trebooze so; he is, I really believe, a brave man, and will accept the
terms. You will tell yourself the same, whether you be a brave man or
not."

The youth lost the last words in those which went before them. He was
no coward: would have stood up to be shot at, at fifteen paces,
like any one else; but the deliberate butchery of fighting across a
handkerchief--

"Do I understand you, sir?"

"That depends on whether you are clever enough, or not, to comprehend
your native tongue. Across a handkerchief, I say, do you hear that?"
And Tom rolled on at his pills.

"I do."

"And when I have fought him, I fight you!" And the pills rolled
steadily at the same pace.

"But--sir?--Why--sir?"

"Because," said Tom, looking him full in the face, "because you,
calling yourself a gentleman, and being, more shame for you, one by
birth, dare to come here, for a foolish vulgar superstition called
honour, to ask me, a quiet medical man, to go and be shot at by a man
whom you know to be a drunken, profligate, blackguard: simply because,
as you know as well as I, I interfered to prevent his insulting a poor
helpless girl: and in so doing, was forced to give him what you, if
you are (as I believe) a gentleman, would have given him also, in my
place."

"I don't understand you, sir!" said the lad, blushing all the while,
as one honestly conscience-stricken; for Tom had spoken the exact
truth, and he knew it.

"Don't lie, sir, and tell me that you don't understand; you understand
every word which I have spoken, and you know that it is true."

"Lie?"

"Yes, lie. Look you, sir; I have no wish to fight--"

"You will fight, though, whether you wish it or not," said the youth
with a hysterical laugh, meant to be defiant.

"But--I can snuff a candle; I can split a bullet on a penknife at
fifteen paces."

"Do you mean to frighten us by boasting? We shall see what you can do
when you come on the ground."

"Across a handkerchief: but on no other condition; and, unless you
will accept that condition, I will assuredly, the next time I see yo