forgotten the officer, when Terrence
bolted into the room his face expressive of anxiety.

"It's all arranged, me boy. Ye did right in lavin' it to me. The young
Britisher and I have made all arrangements."

"Arrangements? what arrangements?" asked Fernando with guileless
innocence.

"Arrangements for the meeting, to be sure."

"What meeting?"

"Meeting with Lieutenant Matson."

Throwing down his book, Fernando started up impatiently said:

"I don't want to meet the infernal lieutenant. I thought you had settled
it."

"So I did, and right dacintly, too. Now what weapons do ye want?"

"Weapons!" cried Fernando, the truth at last beginning to dawn upon him.
"Great Heavens! Terrence, do you mean a duel?"

"Certainly, me frind, nothin' ilse. There's no way to get out of it,
honorably."

Fernando reeled as if he had been struck a blow. He had read of duels,
but, in the solitude of his western home on the farm, he had never known
of any. They were the bloody inventions of more polite civilization.
One had been fought between two trappers at a trading post, not over
forty miles away, in which rifles at thirty paces were used, and both
men were killed. The preacher had said it was murder. Fernando was
brave; but he shrank from a duel, and it was not until his pride had
been appealed to, that he determined to fight. Then Terrence assured him
the lieutenant's friend was waiting; all that was wanting was
the weapons.

"I must talk with Sukey."

Sukey was sent for, and when the tall, lanky fellow entered the
apartment, Fernando told him all.

"Don't you be in the game, Fernando. Let me tell you, don't you be in
it," Sukey answered.

But he was informed that he must, or be forever disgraced. Besides, his
enemy was a hated Briton, whom their country was almost on the verge of
war with, and it would not be a bad thing to kill him in advance.

"Well, if you must be in the game, Fernando, fight with hatchets. You
know you used to throw a hatchet twenty steps and split a pumpkin every
time. Fight with hatchets."

It was a novel mode of dueling; but Terrence took the proposition to the
lieutenant's friend. The Briton said his friend was a gentlemen,
willing to fight with any of the weapons which civilized gentlemen
used, and if Mr. Stevens would not consent to the same, the lieutenant
would publish him as a barbarian and a coward. Pistols were settled on
as a compromise, and Terrence went away to settle the final