into his hands without minding 'em a
bit."

"Couldn't it go by post?"

"No; this kind of letter musn't go by post. You have to be able to
swear that you delivered it yourself into his own hands. And then you
must wait for an answer. Even though he should want a day to think of
it, you must wait."

"Where am I to stay, Tom?"

"Well; it may be they'll ask you to the house, because, though you
carry the letter for me, you are not supposed to be his enemy. If so,
put a jolly face on it, and enjoy yourself as well as you can. You
must seem, you know, to be just as big a swell as anybody there. But
if they don't ask you, you must go to the nearest inn. I'll pay the
bill."

"Shall I go to-day?" asked Faddle.

"I've got to write the letter first. It'll take a little time, so
that you'd better put it off till to-morrow. If you will leave me
now I'll write it, and if you will come back at six we'll go and
have a bit of dinner at Bolivia's." This was an eating-house in the
neighbourhood of Leicester Square, to which the friends had become
partial during this troubled period of their existence.

"Why not come to the Mountaineers, old boy?" Tom shook his head,
showing that he was not yet up to such festivity as that; and then
Faddle took his departure.

Tom at once got out his pen and paper, and began to write his letter.
It may be imagined that it was not written off-hand, or without many
struggles. When it was written it ran as follows;--

SIR,

You will not, I think, be surprised to hear from me in
anything but a friendly spirit. I went down to you at
Aldershot as to a friend whom I could trust with my
bosom's dearest secret, and you have betrayed me. I told
you of my love, a love which has long burned in my heart,
and you received my confidence with a smile, knowing all
the time that you were my rival. I leave it to you to
say what reply you can make as to conduct so damning, so
unmanly, so dastardly,--and so very unlike a friend as
this!

However, there is no place here for words. You have
offered me the greatest insult and the greatest injury
which one man can inflict upon another! There is no
possibility of an apology, unless you are inclined to
say that you will renounce for ever your claim upon the
hand of Miss Ayala Dormer. This I do not expect, and,
therefore, I call upon you to give me that satisfaction
which is all that one gentleman can offe