ey; 'how do I know that this is not a mere subterfuge to escape me?'

'Young man, you do not know me,' rejoined Radcliff, and his breast
swelled proudly. 'Do you think I'd resort to a base lie? Do you think
that I _fear_ you? I confess I am a libertine, but I am a man of
honor--and that honor I now pledge you that I will keep the appointment;
for, let me tell you, that I desire this meeting as much as you do.'

Strange inconsistency of terms!--'A libertine--but a man of _honor_!'
This creed is preached by thousands of honorable adulterers. A seducer
is of necessity a liar and a scoundrel--yet, forsooth, he is a man of
_honor_!

'Very well, sir,' said Sydney--'I have no doubt you will come.' And with
a cool 'good night,' they separated.

The next morning early, at a secluded spot in Roxbury neck, four men
might have been seen, whose operations were peculiar. Two of them were
evidently preparing to settle a dispute by the 'code of honor.' The
other two (the seconds) were engaged in measuring off the distance--ten
paces.

The morning was dark and cloudy, and a drizzling rain was falling. It
was a most unpleasant season to be abroad, especially to execute such
business as those four men had in hand.

Sydney had chosen for his second 'the Doctor'; while Radcliff had
brought with him a tall individual, whose countenance was mostly
concealed by an enormous coat collar and muffler, and a slouched hat.
Two cases of pistols had been brought, and as 'the Doctor' was an
accomplished surgeon, it was deemed unnecessary to have the attendance
of another.

At length all was ready, and the antagonists took their places, with
their deadly weapons in their hands. Both men were cool and collected;
Radcliff was a most accomplished duelist, having been engaged in many
similar encounters; and his countenance was expressive of confidence and
unconcern. Sydney had never before fought a duel, yet, feeling assured
of the justice of his cause, he had no apprehension as to the result. It
may be asked why he so interested himself in a young lady he had never
before seen, as to engage in a bloody encounter for her sake. We answer,
he was prompted so to do by the chivalry of his disposition, and by a
desire to vindicate the purity of his motives, and the sincerity of his
conduct. He wished to let that unprincipled libertine see that he was no
coward, and that he was prepared to defend the rights of a helpless
woman with his life.

The word w