t you
desire, I here beg leave to state, on my own part, that I fully coincide
with Colonel Newcome in his opinion that you have been guilty of
falsehood and treachery, and that the charge of cowardice which you dare
to make against a gentleman of his tried honour and courage, is another
wilful and cowardly falsehood on your part.

"And I hope you will refer the bearer of this note, my friend, Mr.
George Warrington, of the Upper Temple, to the military gentleman whom
you consulted in respect to the just charges of Colonel Newcome. Waiting
a prompt reply, believe me, sir--Your obedient servant, Clive Newcome.

"Sir Barnes Newcome Newcome, Bart., M. P., etc."

"What a blunderhead I am!" cries the Colonel, with delight on his
countenance, spite of his professed repentance. "It never once entered
my head that the youngster would take any part in the affair. I showed
him his cousin's letter casually, just to amuse him, I think, for he has
been deuced low lately, about--about a young man's scrape that he
has got into. And he must have gone off and despatched his challenge
straightway. I recollect he appeared uncommonly brisk at breakfast the
next morning. And so you say, General, the Baronet did not like the
poulet?"

"By no means; never saw a fellow show such a confounded white feather.
At first I congratulated him, thinking your boy's offer must please him,
as it would have pleased any fellow in our time to have a shot.
Dammy! but I was mistaken in my man. He entered into some confounded
long-winded story about a marriage you wanted to make with that infernal
pretty sister of his, who is going to marry young Farintosh, and how you
were in a rage because the scheme fell to the ground, and how a family
duel might occasion unpleasantries to Miss Newcome; though I showed him
how this could be most easily avoided, and that the lady's name need
never appear in the transaction. 'Confound it, Sir Barnes,' says I, 'I
recollect this boy, when he was a youngster throwing a glass of wine
in your face! We'll put it upon that, and say it's an old feud between
you.' He turned quite pale, and he said your fellow had apologised for
the glass of wine."

"Yes," said the Colonel, sadly, "my boy apologised for the glass of
wine. It is curious how we have disliked that Barnes ever since we set
eyes on him."

"Well, Newcome," Sir George resumed, as his mettled charger suddenly
jumped and curvetted, displaying the padded warrior's cavalry