, who I have since _heard_ was under the influence of
opium,--though Hal always maintained that he was not,--said it was a
shame to disturb his poor old father. Hal answered, "You heard what he
said. We did _not_ disturb him." "You are a liar!" the other cried.
That is a name that none of our family has either merited or borne
with; and quick as thought Hal sprang to his feet and struck him across
the face with the walking-stick he held. The blow sent the lower part
across the balcony in the street, as the spring was loosened by it,
while the upper part, to which was fastened the sword--for it was
father's sword-cane--remained in his hand. I doubt that he ever before
knew the cane could come apart. Certainly he did not perceive it, until
the other whined piteously he was taking advantage over an unarmed man;
when, cursing him, he (Harry) threw it after the body of the cane, and
said, "_Now_ we are equal." The other's answer was to draw a knife,[3]
and was about to plunge it into Harry, who disdained to flinch, when
Mr. Henderson threw himself on Mr. Sparks and dragged him off.

[2] Note by Mrs. Dawson in 1896: "Annie Laurie!"

[3] Note by Mrs. Dawson: Bowie knife.

It was a little while after that Harry came for us. The consequence of
this was a challenge from Mr. Sparks in the morning, which was accepted
by Harry's friends, who appointed Monday, at Greenwell, to meet. Lydia
did not tell me that; she said she thought it had been settled
peaceably, so I was not uneasy, and only wanted Harry to come back from
Seth David's soon. The possibility of his fighting never occurred to
me.

Sunday evening I was on the front steps with Miriam and Dr. Woods,
talking of Harry and wishing he would come. "You want Harry!" the
doctor repeated after me; "you had better learn to live without him."
"What an absurdity!" I said and wondered when he would come. Still
later, Miriam, father, and I were in the parlor, when there was a tap
on the window, just above his head, and I saw a hand, for an instant.
Father hurried out, and we heard several voices; and then steps going
away. Mother came down and asked who had been there, but we only knew
that, whoever it was, father had afterward gone with them. Mother went
on: "There is something going on, which is to be kept from me. Every
one seems to know it, and to make a secret of it." I said nothing, for
I had promised Lydia not to tell; and even I did not know all.

When father ca