Wallingford spoke without excitement, but in a stern, resolute way. By
this time, Dewey was on his feet again. The sight of his uncle, and
the unflinching aspect of the person he had ventured to insult, had the
effect to cool off his excitement many degrees.

"What is the meaning of this, young men?" sternly repeated Judge
Bigelow, looking from one to the other.

"I have answered your question as far as I am concerned," replied Henry.

"Ralph! Speak! Did you offer him an insult?"

To this demand, the nephew replied, with no abatement of his originally
offensive manner--

"If he chooses to consider my words as an insult, let him do so. I shall
in no case take them back."

"What did you say?"

There was an imperative force in the Judge's manner.

Dewey was silent.

"What did he say,"--Judge Bigelow turned to Wallingford, "that you
should answer it with a blow?"

"If he is satisfied with the answer," replied the latter, "the case can
rest where it is. If not, I am ready to meet him on any appeal. I He
will find me no trifler."

The Judge turned again to his nephew.

"Ralph! I insist upon having this matter explained. I know Henry too
well to believe that he would strike you, unless there had been strong
provocation."

"Perhaps he regarded it as such; I did not," said Dewey.

"If he is satisfied with his chastisement, there is no occasion to press
him farther, Judge." Wallingford was provoked to this by the young man's
cool impertinence.

Dewey made a movement as if about to rush upon Wallingford, but the
Judge interposed his body to keep them apart. The appearance of a fourth
party at this juncture, in the person of Squire Floyd, the prospective
father-in-law of one of the belligerents, changed materially the aspect
of affairs.

"Good-morning, Squire," said Wallingford, with a quickly assumed
cheerfulness of manner, smiling in his usual grave way.

Both the Judge and his nephew saw reason to imitate the example of
Wallingford, and thus throw up a blind before the eyes of Squire
Floyd, who thought he perceived something wrong as he came in, but was
afterwards inclined to doubt the evidence of his senses.

Wallingford retired in a few moments. When he came back to the office an
hour afterwards, he found a note of apology on his table, accompanied
by a request that so unpleasant an incident as the one which had just
occurred, might be suffered to pass into oblivion. No acknowledgment of
this commun