the subject, numbered from 1 to 25.[27] Gentleman
don't consider whether it is too soon or too late to fight, or whether a
gentleman is perfectly entitled to call him out or not. The title in
Ireland is generally considered sufficient in the _will_ to do it, and
few there would wait for the poising of a very delicately balanced scale
of etiquette before going to the ground; they would be more likely to
fight first, and leave the world to argue about the niceties after.

[27] Just such a lengthy correspondence had appeared in the
London journals when the first edition of this book was
published.

In the present instance a duel was unavoidable, and it was to be feared
a mortal one, for deadly insult had been given on both sides.

The rumour of the hostile meeting flew like wildfire through the town,
and when the parties met in a field about a quarter of a mile beyond
the bridge, an anxious crowd was present. The police were obliged to be
in strong force on the ground to keep back the people, who were not
now, as an hour before, in the town, in uproarious noise and action,
but still as death; not a murmur was amongst them; the excitement of
love for the noble young champion, whose life was in danger for his
care of _them_, held them spell-bound in a tranquillity almost
fearful.

The aspect of the two principals was in singular contrast. On the one
side a man burning for revenge, who, to use a common but terrible
parlance, desired to "wash out the dishonour put upon him in blood." The
other was there, regretting that cause existed for the awful
arbitrament, and only anxious to defend his own, not take another's
life. To sensitive minds the reaction is always painful of having
insulted another, when the excitement is over which prompted it. When
the hot blood which inflamed the brain runs in cooler currents, the man
of feeling always regrets, if he does not reproach himself with, having
urged his fellow-man to break the commandments of the Most High, and
deface, perhaps annihilate, the form that was moulded in His image. The
words "liar and ruffian" haunted Edward's mind reproachfully; but then
the provocation--"rebel!"--no gentleman could brook it. Because his
commiseration for a people had endeared him to them, was he to be called
"_rebel_"? Because, at the risk of his own life, he had preserved
perhaps scores, and prevented an infraction of the law, was he to be
called "_rebel_"? He stood acquitted