e,
stunned him with surprise; but the rest of Evan's remarks, branching off
as they did into theoretic phrases, gave his vague and very English
mind (full of memories of the hedging and compromise in English public
speaking) an indistinct sensation of relief, as if the man, though mad,
were not so dangerous as he had thought. He went into a sort of weary
laughter.

"For Heaven's sake, man," he said, "don't talk so much. Let other people
have a chance (laughter). I trust all that you said about asking Mr.
Turnbull to fight, may be regarded as rubbish. In case of accidents,
however, I must bind you over to keep the peace."

"To keep the peace," repeated Evan, "with whom?"

"With Mr. Turnbull," said Vane.

"Certainly not," answered MacIan. "What has he to do with peace?"

"Do you mean to say," began the magistrate, "that you refuse to..." The
voice of Turnbull himself clove in for the first time.

"Might I suggest," he said, "That I, your worship, can settle to some
extent this absurd matter myself. This rather wild gentleman promises
that he will not attack me with any ordinary assault--and if he does,
you may be sure the police shall hear of it. But he says he will not. He
says he will challenge me to a duel; and I cannot say anything stronger
about his mental state than to say that I think that it is highly
probable that he will. (Laughter.) But it takes two to make a duel, your
worship (renewed laughter). I do not in the least mind being described
on every wall in the world as the coward who would not fight a man
in Fleet Street, about whether the Virgin Mary had a parallel in
Mesopotamian mythology. No, your worship. You need not trouble to bind
him over to keep the peace. I bind myself over to keep the peace, and
you may rest quite satisfied that there will be no duel with me in it."

Mr. Cumberland Vane rolled about, laughing in a sort of relief.

"You're like a breath of April, sir," he cried. "You're ozone after
that fellow. You're perfectly right. Perhaps I have taken the thing too
seriously. I should love to see him sending you challenges and to see
you smiling. Well, well."

Evan went out of the Court of Justice free, but strangely shaken, like
a sick man. Any punishment of suppression he would have felt as natural;
but the sudden juncture between the laughter of his judge and the
laughter of the man he had wronged, made him feel suddenly small, or at
least, defeated. It was really true that the whole