r stupified as I was, I remember the sensation in court,
when the alderman made his appearance with a patch over his eye. The
affecting admonition of the little judge--who, when passing sentence upon
me, adverted to the former respectability of my life, and the rank of my
relatives--actually made the galleries weep.

"Four months in Newgate, and a fine to the king, then rewarded my taste
for horse-exercise; and it's no wonder if I prefer going on foot.

"As to Miss Eversham, the following short note from the dean concluded my
hopes in that quarter.

"'Deanery, Wednesday morning.

"'Sir,--After the very distressing publicity to which your late
conduct has exposed you--the so open avowal of political opinion, at
variance with those (I will say) of every gentleman--and the
recorded sentence of a judge on the verdict of twelve of your
countrymen--I should hope that you will not feel my present
admonition necessary to inform you, that your visits at my house
shall cease.

"'The presents you made my daughter, when under our unfortunate
ignorance of your real character, have been addressed to your hotel,
and I am your most obedient, humble servant,

"'Oliver Eversham.'

"Here ended my second affair 'par amours;' and I freely confess to you
that if I can only obtain a wife in a sea voyage, or a steeple chase, I
am likely to fulfill one great condition in modern advertising--'as
having no incumbrance, or any objection to travel.'"

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE DUEL.

Mr. O'Leary had scarcely concluded the narrative of his second adventure,
when the grey light of the breaking day was seen faintly struggling
through the half-closed curtains, and apprising us of the lateness of the
hour.

"I think we shall just have time for one finishing flask of Chambertin,"
said O'Leary, as he emptied the bottle into his glass.

"I forbid the bans, for one," cried Trevanion. "We have all had wine
enough, considering what we have before us this morning; and besides you
are not aware it is now past four o'clock. So garcon--garcon, there--how
soundly the poor fellow sleeps--let us have some coffee, and then inquire
if a carriage is in waiting at the corner of the Rue Vivienne."

The coffee made its appearance, very much, as it seemed, to Mr. O'Leary's
chagrin, who, however, solaced himself by sundry petits verres, to
correct the coldness