think, with me. I shall instruct my friends to
ask for swords."

"Sorry a difference will it make to me," said Sir Terence. "Anything
from a horsewhip to a howitzer." And then recollection descending like a
cold hand upon him chilled his hot rage, struck the fine Irish arrogance
all out of him, and left him suddenly limp. "My God!" he said, and
it was almost a groan. He detained Samoval, who had already turned to
depart. "A moment, Count," he cried. "I--I had forgotten. There is the
general order--Lord Wellington's enactment."

"Awkward, of course," said Samoval, who had never for a moment been
oblivious of that enactment, and who had been carefully building upon
it. "But you should have considered it before committing yourself so
irrevocably."

Sir Terence steadied himself. He recovered his truculence. "Irrevocable
or not, it will just have to be revocable. The meeting's impossible."

"I do not see the impossibility. I am not surprised you should shelter
yourself behind an enactment; but you will remember this enactment does
not apply to me, who am not a soldier."

"But it applies to me, who am not only a soldier, but the
Adjutant-General here, the man chiefly responsible for seeing the order
carried out. It would be a fine thing if I were the first to disregard
it."

"I am afraid it is too late. You have disregarded it already, sir."

"How so?"

"The letter of the law is against sending or receiving a challenge, I
think."

O'Moy was distracted. "Samoval," he said, drawing himself up, "I will
admit that I have been a fool. I will apologise to you for the blow and
for the word that accompanied it."

"The apology would imply that my statement was a true one and that you
recognised it. If you mean that--"

"I mean nothing of the kind. Damme! I've a mind to horsewhip you, and
leave it at that. D' ye think I want to face a firing party on your
account?"

"I don't think there is the remotest likelihood of any such
contingency," replied Samoval.

But O'Moy went headlong on. "And another thing. Where will I be finding
a friend to meet your friends? Who will dare to act for me in view of
that enactment?"

The Count considered. He was grave now. "Of course that is a
difficulty," he admitted, as if he perceived it now for the first time.
"Under the circumstances, Sir Terence, and entirely to accommodate you,
I might consent to dispense with seconds."

"Dispense with seconds?" Sir Terence was horrified at the