a gentleman, and
I see no right he had to send me back a cavalier answer when I demanded
the satisfaction of one. But he gave me my life once; and, in looking
the matter over at present, I put myself but on equal terms with him.
Should he cross me again, I shall consider the old accompt as balanced,
and his Mastership will do well to look to himself."

"That he should," re-echoed Craigengelt; "for when you are in practice,
Bucklaw, I would bet a magnum you are through him before the third
pass."

"Then you know nothing of the matter," said Bucklaw, "and you never saw
him fence."

"And I know nothing of the matter?" said the dependant--"a good jest, I
promise you! And though I never saw Ravenswood fence, have I not been at
Monsieur Sagoon's school, who was the first maitre d'armes at Paris;
and have I not been at Signor Poco's at Florence, and Meinheer
Durchstossen's at Vienna, and have I not seen all their play?"

"I don't know whether you have or not," said Bucklaw; "but what about
it, though you had?"

"Only that I will be d--d if ever I saw French, Italian, or
High-Dutchman ever make foot, hand, and eye keep time half so well as
you, Bucklaw."

"I believe you lie, Craigie," said Bucklaw; "however, I can hold my own,
both with single rapier, backsword, sword and dagger, broadsword, or
case of falchions--and that's as much as any gentleman need know of the
matter."

"And the doubt of what ninety-nine out of a hundred know," said
Craigengelt; "they learn to change a few thrusts with the small sword,
and then, forsooth, they understand the noble art of defence! Now, when
I was at Rouen in the year 1695, there was a Chevalier de Chapon and I
went to the opera, where we found three bits of English birkies----" "Is
it a long story you are going to tell?" said Bucklaw, interrupting him
without ceremony.

"Just as you like," answered the parasite, "for we made short work of
it."

"Then I like it short," said Bucklaw. "Is it serious or merry?"

"Devilish serious, I assure you, and so they found it; for the Chevalier
and I----"

"Then I don't like it at all," said Bucklaw; "so fill a brimmer of
my auld auntie's claret, rest her heart! And, as the Hielandman says,
Skioch doch na skiall."

"That was what tough old Sir Even Dhu used to say to me when I was out
with the metall'd lads in 1689. 'Craigengelt,' he used to say, 'you
are as pretty a fellow as ever held steel in his grip, but you have one
fault.'"

"I