The Frenchman had got himself up very carefully. All
his mustachios and whiskers were in full trim, and he had on
a military kind of cloak, with a corner of it thrown over his
left shoulder, which gave him an imposing air as he marched
up and down, smoking a cigar, with an unconcern that went
to Mr. Spooner's very soul. But they bowed gravely, and
then left the two others to arrange matters.
There wag a fifth party present — a gentleman in a rough
pilot coat, with a small terrier looking out of his pocket, who
was introduced as Mr. JoUands, of the hospitals.
Mr. Spooner flinched, as he heard it.
" I say, Hammond," he whispered to his friend, "stick up
for fourteen paces, if you can."

" Flitter talks about ten," replied Philip.
" Oh, nonsense! it would be murder," said Mr. Spooner, as
Philip walked away.
The seconds got the pistols, and proceeded to load them,
whilst Mr. Spooner tried to have a cigar also. But he could
not make it draw: he only chewed it to pieces in his mouth,
and then threw it away. Mr. JoUands, of the hospitals, looked
at him with great contempt; and then, still keeping a short
pipe in his mouth, sang a convivial chorus, until reproved by
lir. Flitter. m



S70 tUE tOtTLETOIi tlSfiAet.
Tha ground was measured, the places decided, and the
pistols loaded and placed in the hands of the principals by
the seconds, who then fell back.
" Here it cornea !" thought Mr. Spooner, with calm despe-
ration, after an anxious glance towards the road.
" Gentlemen, are you ready?" exclaimed Mr. Wyndham
Flitter, in a deep, loud voice, as if he had been asking them
whether they were all charged.
