ked down Captain Scarborough only in
self-defence; had he not allowed himself to be roused to wrath by
treatment which could not but give rise to wrath in a young man's bosom,
no doubt, when his foe lay at his feet, he would have stooped to pick
him up, and have tended his wounds. But such was not Harry's
character,--nor that of any of the young men with whom I have been
acquainted. Such, however, was the conduct apparently expected from him
by many, when the circumstances of those five minutes were brought to
the light. But, on the other hand, had passion not completely got the
better of him, had he not at the moment considered the attack made upon
him to amount to misconduct so gross as to supersede all necessity for
gentle usage on his own part, he would hardly have left the man to live
or die as chance would have it. Boiling with passion, he went his way,
and did leave the man on the pavement, not caring much, or rather, not
thinking much, whether his victim might live or die.

On the next day Harry Annesley left London and went down to Buston,
having heard no word farther about the captain. He did not start till
late in the afternoon, and during the day took some trouble to make
himself conspicuous about the town; but he heard nothing of Captain
Scarborough. Twice he walked along Charles Street, and looked at the
spot on which he had stood on the night before in what might have been
deadly conflict. Then he told himself that he had not been in the least
wounded, that the ferocious maddened man had attempted to do no more
than shake him, that his coat had suffered and not himself, and that in
return he had certainly struck the captain with all his violence. There
were probably some regrets, but he said not a word on the subject to any
one, and so he left London.

For three or four days nothing was heard of the captain, nor was
anything said about him. He had lodgings in town, at which he was no
doubt missed, but he also had quarters at the barracks, at which he did
not often sleep, but to which it was thought possible on the next
morning that he might have betaken himself. Before the evening of that
day had come he had no doubt been missed, but in the world at large no
special mention was made of his absence for some time. Then, among the
haunts which he was known to frequent, questions began to be asked as to
his whereabouts, and to be answered by doubtful assertions that nothing
had been seen or heard of him for