ood
of the O'Briens! didn't he slap me with his sword, as if I were a clown
in the pantomime. Peter, I'll kill the harlequin scoundrel, and my
word's as good as my bond!"

By this time we had arrived at the ground. The French lieutenant
stripped to his shirt and trousers; O'Brien did the same, kicking his
boots off, and standing upon the wet grass in his stockings. The swords
were measured, and handed to them; they took their distance, and set to.
I must say, that I was breathless with anxiety; the idea of losing
O'Brien struck me with grief and terror. I then felt the value of all
his kindness to me, and would have taken his place, and have been run
through the body, rather than he should have been hurt. At first,
O'Brien put himself in the correct attitude of defence, in imitation of
the lieutenant, but this was for a very few seconds; he suddenly made a
spring, and rushed on to his adversary, stabbing at him with a velocity
quite astonishing, the lieutenant parrying in his defence, until at last
he had an opportunity of lungeing at O'Brien. O'Brien, who no longer
kept his left arm raised in equipoise, caught the sword of the
lieutenant at within six inches of the point, and directing it under his
left arm, as he rushed in, passed his own through the lieutenant's body.
It was all over in less than a minute--the lieutenant did not live half
an hour afterwards. The French officers were very much surprised at the
result, for they perceived at once that O'Brien knew nothing of fencing.
O'Brien gathered a tuft of grass, wiped the sword, which he presented to
the officer to whom it belonged, and thanking the major and the whole of
them for their impartiality and gentlemanlike conduct, led the way to
the square, where he again took his station in the ranks of the
prisoners.

Shortly after, the major commandant came up to us, and asked whether we
would accept of our parole, as, in that case, we might travel as we
pleased. We consented, with many thanks for his civility and kindness;
but I could not help thinking at the time, that the French officers were
a little mortified at O'Brien's success, although they were too
honourable to express the feeling. O'Brien told me, after we had quitted
the town, that had it not been for the handsome conduct of the officers,
he would not have accepted our parole, as he felt convinced that we
could have easily made our escape. We talked over the matter a long
while, and at last agreed that