nd Leslie in a fitful doze in the chair, into
which, after walking up and down the room during the night, he had sunk
at last from sheer exhaustion. On first waking he could not recall what
had happened. He stretched his stiff limbs, and then the faint pallor of
the dawn showed him the familiar objects in the room, and the present
with all its stern realities became vivid.

He tottered upstairs to his bed, not wishing his mother to find him
dressed in his gay evening clothes, when she came down to breakfast.

As he passed her door he heard her voice raised in prayer.

To pray aloud, in pleading earnest tones, had become a habit of the good
people with whom Mrs. Travers had cast in her lot, and Leslie paused as
he heard his name.

"My son! my son! Convert him, turn him to Thee, for he is wandering far
from Thee, in pursuit of the vain pleasures of a sinful world!"

"I need your prayers, sweet mother," the poor fellow murmured, as he
passed on to his room near hers. "Perhaps to-morrow I shall be beyond
their reach. Oh! that great mystery _beyond_!"

The message came, as he expected, brought by Mr. Dickinson, who was to
be Sir Maxwell's second, and Leslie referred him to Mr. Beresford to
act for him.

"It's a pity you can't square matters without fighting," Mr. Dickinson
said.

He was the good-natured, easy-going man who had been in the jeweller's
shop on that day when Sir Maxwell had first had his evil suspicions
roused.

"It's a pity, but Sir Maxwell is bent upon fighting, so the sooner it is
over, the better. He is an old hand--and you? Can you handle a sword?"

"Fairly well," Leslie said.

"It is proposed to have a round with swords. The place--Claverton Down,
out Widcombe way; the time--dawn, to-morrow. It is Sunday, by-the-bye,
and we are safe not to be hindered. What answer shall I take to Danby?"

"Say I am ready," Leslie said; "ready--aye, ready!"

"You don't feel inclined for a compromise, then?"

"No, I do not. He has heaped insults on me which I have overlooked, but
he has dared to slander one whom I love better than life. Do you suppose
I can brook that?"

"Dear! dear!" exclaimed Mr. Dickinson. "Women are the bottom of half the
mischief that is brewed in the world, I do believe."

Mr. Dickinson had not been gone long before Mr. Beresford arrived. He
ran in to the Herschels to excuse himself from accompanying them to
Bristol, saying he had urgent business, and then returned to his friend.