ingly. "I
have wronged him. He has a tongue on him, he has that. And here I have
been judging from his appearance that he was a mere common dolt. And,
what, Mr. O'Ruddy," he added, "were you pleased to say to the
gentlemen which I would not care to hear with my hands tied behind
me?"

"I told them why you took that sudden trip to Bristol," I answered
softly.

He fairly leaped in a sudden wild rage. "You--told them?" he
stuttered. "You poltroon! 'Twas a coward's work!"

"Be easy," said I, to soothe him. "'Tis no more cowardly than it is
for the best swordsman in England to be fighting the worst swordsman
in Ireland over a matter in which he is entirely in the wrong,
although 'tis not me that cares one way or another way. Indeed, I
prefer you to be in the wrong, you little black pig."

"Stop," said he, with a face as white as milk. "You told them--you
told them about--about the girl at Bristol?"

"What girl at Bristol?" said I innocently. "'Tis not me to be knowing
your wenches in Bristol or otherwheres."

A red flush came into the side of his neck and swelled slowly across
his cheeks. "If you've told them about Nell!"

"Nell?" said I. "Nell? Yes, that's the name. Nell. Yes, Nell. And if I
told them about Nell?"

"Then," he rejoined solemnly, "I shall kill you ten times if I lose my
soul in everlasting hell for it."

"But after I have killed you eleven times I shall go to Bristol and
have some sweet interviews with fair Nell," said I. This sting I
expected to call forth a terrific outburst, but he remained scowling
in dark thought. Then I saw where I had been wrong. This Nell was now
more a shame than a sweetheart, and he was afraid that word had been
passed by me to the brother of--Here was a chance to disturb him.
"When I was making my little joke of you and your flame at Bristol,"
said I thoughtfully, "I believe there were no ladies present. I don't
remember quite. Any how we will let that pass. 'Tis of no
consequence."

And here I got him in full cry. "_God rot you!_" he shrieked. His
sword sprang and whistled in the air.

"Hold," said I, as a man of peace. "'Twould be murder. My weapon is on
the bed, and I am too lazy to go and fetch it. And in the mean time
let me assure you that no word has crossed my lips in regard to Nell,
your Bristol sweetheart, for the very excellent reason that I never
knew of her existence until you yourself told me some moments ago."

Never before had he met a man like me.