. Last night, as I was returning to the shelter of my humble
roof, a dirty hairy fellow--but why should I describe him to
_you_?--leapt out and fired at me point-blank with a huge old-fashioned
horse-pistol, and _missed_. I give you my word he singed half an inch
off my left whisker. Of course they _say_ he was a ruffianly suitor
offended by my just decision in favour of his opponent, but I know
better. 'Sweet Hal, by my faith!' thinks I to myself, says I, and what
I says I sticks to. I know he ought to have been taken alive, and
returned to you postage-paid, with an insulting message inviting you to
try again and do your worst. Unfortunately my honest fellows, not
being versed in these niceties of behaviour, fell on him in a body and
incontinently despatched him. But bring on your minions. Come one,
come all, this rock shall fly from its firm base as soon as

Sir, your most humble and obedient servant,

R. C."

_From Lieut. Henry Gerrard, Agpur City, to Lieut. Robert Charteris_:--

"DEAR BOB,--I grieve to find that you answered what you are good enough
to call my _billet doux_ even before receiving it. Had your miserable
tool's fortune not failed him when your plot was on the verge of
success, you would now be rid of a rival. I own I should not have
believed you fallen so low as to resort to poison--a nasty
ungentlemanly weapon, if you will pardon my natural warmth. The wretch
declared himself to have been employed by a villainous Dewan lately
dismissed, 'tis true, but my apprehensive heart framed, though my lips
refrained from uttering, your name. Powdered glass, too! Let me ask
you as a favour to choose a less revolting form of death next time, or
I swear to you that my expiring lips shall murmur '_Et tu, Roberte!_'
with sufficient reiteration to excite remark. And pray how had poor
old Pertaub Sing injured you, that your vengeance should include him?
Avaunt, traitor! I pities and despises you. H. G."

_From Lieut. Robert Charteris to Lieut. Henry Gerrard_:--

"Ha, most noble Hal, and have the little god's arrows but just failed
to prove fatal in your case also? _Honour_, what crimes are committed
in thy name! But none shall say Bob Charteris don't fight fair.
Please receive herewith a buffalo horn, the trophy of my bow and spear.
You remember how Mithridates, or some old classical fellow, used it as
an antidote to poisons?[1] The exact method of application has slipped
my memo