hood where he could be lodged. But I'll tell you what
I'll do--the name of the inn is the White Horse--if I should prove
wrong in fancying he is there, I will send a message to that inn to say
where he may be found."

"Exactly," returned Freddy, entering the White Horse, Carsley, in his
tablets; "now I think I know all about it, and it shall not be my fault
if this duel comes off to-morrow morning. Good-bye, old fellow! I wish
you did not look quite so grumpy about it, but it's all those mediaeval
prejudices of yours. I daresay you'd think it a much more manly way of
stopping the business to electrotype yourself in brass and steel, throw
yourself across a cart-horse plated to match, and shouting, 'Fairlegh
to the rescue!' run a long pole, pointed with iron, through Wilford's
jugular. Now, I consider mine much the most philosophical way of doing
the trick; in fact, conducting a dodge of this kind always affords me
intense satisfaction, and puts me into the highest possible
spirits. Have you ever seen the war dance, in which the
Hotto-potto-cum-from-the-wash-ki Indians usually indulge before they set
out on an expedition?--A quarter to three," he continued, pulling out
his watch, "the coach to London passes in five minutes, I shan't have
time to show it you--it begins so." Thus saying, he flung himself into a
perfectly indescribable attitude, and commenced a series of evolutions,
more nearly resembling the contortions of a dancing bear, than any other
Terpsichorean exhibition with which I was acquainted. Having continued
this until he had made himself very ~209~~unnecessarily hot, he wound
up the performance by flinging a summerset, in doing which he overturned
himself and the coal-scuttle into a box of deeds; whereby becoming
embarrassed, he experienced much difficulty in getting right end
upwards again. "There," he exclaimed, throwing himself into an
arm-chair commonly occupied by his father's portly form--"There! talk of
accomplishments--show me a fashionable young lady who can do that,
and I'll say she _is_ accomplished. It's rather warm work, though," he
continued, wiping his brow, "unless one wears the appropriate costume,
which, I believe, consists of a judicious mixture of red and yellow
paint, three feathers, and the scalp of your opposite neighbour.
Pleasant that," he added, pointing to the reversed coal-scuttle--"that's
a new addition, not of 'Coke upon Littleton,' but of Coal upon--what's
the suit? aye, Buffer