In a very modest chamber of a house in one of the streets which lead from the Strand to the Thames, two persons sat at supper. It is no time for lengthened introductions, and I must present Captain Duff Brown very hurriedly to my reader, as he confronted his friend Stapylton at table. The Captain was a jovial-looking, full-whiskered, somewhat corpulent man, with a ready reply, a ready laugh, and a hand readier than either, whether the weapon wielded was a billiard-cue or a pistol.

The board before them was covered with oysters and oyster-shells, porter in its pewter, a square-shaped decanter of gin, and a bundle of cigars. The cloth was dirty, the knives unclean, and the candles ill-matched and of tallow; but the guests did not seem to have bestowed much attention to these demerits, but ate and drank like men who enjoyed their fare.

“The best country in Europe,—the best in the world,—I call England for a fellow who knows life,” cried the Captain. “There is nothing you cannot do; nothing you cannot have in it.”

“With eight thousand a year, perhaps,” said Stapylton, sarcastically.

“No need of anything like it. Does any man want a better supper than we have had to-night? What better could he have? And the whole cost not over five, or at most six shillings for the pair of us.”

“You may talk till you are hoarse, Duff, but I'll not stay in it When once I have settled these two or three matters I have told you of, I'll start for—I don't much care whither. I'll go to Persia, or perhaps to the Yankees.”

“I always keep America for the finish!” said the other. “It is to the rest of the world what the copper hell is to Crockford's,—the last refuge when one walks in broken boots and in low company. But tell me, what have you done to-day; where did you go after we parted?”

“I went to the Horse Guards, and saw Blanchard,—pompous old humbug that he is. I told him that I had made up my mind to sell out; that I intended to take service in a foreign army,—he hates foreigners,—and begged he would expedite my affairs with his Royal Highness, as my arrangements could not admit of delay.”

“And he told you that there was an official routine, out of which no officer need presume to expect his business could travel?”

“He told me no such thing. He flatly said, 'Your case is already before the Commander-in-Chief, Major Stapylton, and you may rely on it there will be no needless delay in dealing with it.”

“That was a threat, I take it.”

“Of course it was a threat; and I only said, 'It will be the first instance of the kind, then, in the department,' and left him.”

“Where to, after that?”

“I next went to Gregory's, the magistrate of police. I wanted to see the informations the black fellow swore to; and as I knew a son of Gregory's in the Carbiniers, I thought I could manage it; but bad luck would have it that the old fellow should have in his hands some unsettled bills with my indorsements on them,—fact; Gregory and I used to do a little that way once,—and he almost got a fit when he heard my name.”

“Tried back after that, eh?”

“Went on to Renshaw's and won fifty pounds at hazard, took Blake's odds on Diadem, and booked myself for a berth in the Boulogne steamer, which leaves at two this morning.”

“You secured a passport for me, did n't you?”

“No. You'll have to come as my servant. The Embassy fellows were all strangers to me, and said they would not give a separate passport without seeing the bearer.”

“All right. I don't dislike the second cabin, nor the ladies'-maids. What about the pistols?”

“They are yonder under the great-coat. Renshaw lent them. They are not very good, he says, and one of them hangs a little in the fire.”

“They 'll be better than the old Irishman's, that's certain. You may swear that his tools were in use early in the last century.”

“And himself, too; that's the worst of it all. I wish it was not a fellow that might be my grandfather.”

“I don't know. I rather suspect, if I was given to compunctions, I'd have less of them for shaking down the rotten ripe fruit than the blossom.”

“And he 's a fine old fellow, too,” said Stapylton, half sadly.

“Why didn't you tell him to drop in this evening and have a little ÉcartÉ?”

For a while Stapylton leaned his head on his hand moodily, and said nothing.

“Cheer up, man! Taste that Hollands. I never mixed better,” said Brown.

“I begin to regret now, Duff, that I did n't take your advice.”

“And run away with her?”

“Yes, it would have been the right course, after all!”

“I knew it. I always said it. I told you over and over again what would happen if you went to work in orderly fashion. They 'd at once say, 'Who are your people,—where are they,—what have they?' Now, let a man be as inventive as Daniel Defoe himself, there will always slip out some flaw or other about a name, or a date,—dates are the very devil! But when you have once carried her off, what can they do but compromise?”

“She would never have consented.”

“I 'd not have asked her. I 'd have given her the benefit of the customs of the land she lived in, and made it a regular abduction. Paddy somebody and Terence something else are always ready to risk their necks for a pint of whiskey and a breach of the laws.”

“I don't think I could have brought myself to it.”

“I could, I promise you.”

“And there 's an end of a man after such a thing.”

“Yes, if he fails. If he's overtaken and thrashed, I grant you he not only loses the game, but gets the cards in his face, besides. But why fail? Nobody fails when he wants to win,—when he determines to win. When I shot De Courcy at Asterabad—”

“Don't bring up that affair, at least, as one of precedent, Duff. I neither desire to be tried for a capital felony, nor to have committed one.”

“Capital fiddlesticks! As if men did not fight duels every day of the week; the difference between guilt and innocence being that one fellow's hand shook, and the other's was steady. De Courcy would have 'dropped' me, if I'd have Jet him.”

“And so you would have carried her off, Master Duff?” said Stapylton, slowly.

“Yes; if she had the pot of money you speak of, and no Lord Chancellor for a guardian. I 'd have made the thing sure at once.”

“The money she will and must have; so much is certain.”

“Then I 'd have made the remainder just as certain.”

“It is a vulgar crime, Duff; it would be very hard to stoop to it.”

“Fifty things are harder,—no cash, no credit are harder. The Fleet is harder. But what is that noise? Don't you hear a knock at the door? Yes, there's some one without who hasn't much patience.” So saying, he arose and walked to the door. As he opened it, he started back a little with surprise, for it was a police constable stood before him.

“Not you, Captain, not you, sir! it's another gentleman I want. I see him at the table there,—Major Stapylton.” By this time the man had entered the room and stood in front of the fire. “I have a warrant against you, Major,” said he, quietly. “Informations have been sworn before Mr. Colt that you intend to fight a duel, and you must appear at the office to-morrow, to enter into your bond, and to give securities to keep the peace.”

“Who swore the informations?” cried Brown.

“What have we to do with that?” said Stapylton, impatiently. “Isn't the world full of meddling old women? Who wants to know the names?”

“I 'll lay the odds it was old Conyers; the greatest humbug in that land of humbugs,—Bengal. It was he that insisted on my leaving the Fifth. Come, Sergeant, out with it. This was General Conyers's doing?”

“I'm sorry to be obliged to declare you in custody, Major,” said the policeman; “but if you like to come over to Mr. Colt's private residence, I 'm sure he 'd settle the matter this evening.”

“He'll do no such thing, by George!” cried Brown. “The sneaking dogs who have taken this shabby course shall be exposed in open court. We 'll have the names in full, and in every newspaper in England. Don't compromise the case, Stapylton; make them eat the mess they have cooked, to the last mouthful. We 'll show the world what the fighting Irishman and his gallant friend are made of. Major Stapylton is your prisoner, Sergeant?”

The man smiled slightly at the passionate energy of the speaker, and turned to Stapylton. “There 's no objection to your going to your lodgings, Major. You 'll be at the chief office by ten to-morrow.”

Stapylton nodded assent, and the other retired and closed the door.

“What do you say now?” cried Brown, triumphantly. “Did n't I tell you this? Did n't I say that when old Con-yers heard my name, he 'd say, 'Oh, there 'll be no squaring this business'?”

“It's just as likely that he said, 'I 'll not confer with that man; he had to leave the service.'”

“More fool you, then, not to have had a more respectable friend. Had you there, Stapylton,—eh?”

“I acknowledge that. All I can say in extenuation is, that I hoped old Barrington, living so long out of the world, would have selected another old mummy like himself, who had never heard of Captain Duff Brown, nor his famous trial at Calcutta.”

“There's not a man in the kingdom has not heard of me. I 'm as well known as the first Duke in the land.”

“Don't boast of it, Duff; even notoriety is not always a cheap luxury.”

“Who knows but you may divide it with me to-morrow or next day?”

“What do you mean, sir?—what do you mean?” cried Stapylton, slapping the table with his clenched hand.

“Only what I said,—that Major Stapylton may furnish the town with a nine-days wonder, vice Captain Duff Brown, forgotten.”

Evidently ashamed of his wrath, Stapylton tried to laugh off the occasion of it, and said, “I suppose neither of us would take the matter much to heart.”

“I 'll not go to the office with you to-morrow, Stapylton,” added he, after a pause; “that old Sepoy General would certainly seize the opportunity to open some old scores that I'd as soon leave undisturbed.”

“All right, I think you are prudent there.”

“But I 'll be of use in another way. I 'll lay in wait for that fellow who reports for the 'Chronicle,' the only paper that cares for these things, and I 'll have him deep in the discussion of some devilled kidneys when your case is called on.”

“I fancy it does not matter what publicity it obtains.”

“Ah, I don't know that. Old Braddell, our major, used to say, 'Reputation, after forty, is like an old wall. If you begin to break a hole in it, you never know how much will come away.'”

“I tell you again, Duff, I'm past scandalizing; but have your way, if you will 'muzzle the ox,' and let us get away from this as soon as may be. I want a little rest after this excitement.”

“Well, I 'm pretty much in the same boot myself, though I don't exactly know where to go. France is dangerous. In Prussia there are two sentences recorded against me. I 'm condemned to eight years' hard labor in Wurtemberg, and pronounced dead in Austria for my share in that Venetian disturbance.”

“Don't tell me of these rascalities. Bad enough when a man is driven to them, but downright infamy to be proud of.”

“Have you never thought of going into the Church? I 've a notion you 'd be a stunning preacher.”

“Give up this bantering, Duff, and tell me how I shall get hold of young Conyers. I 'd rather put a ball in that fellow than be a Lieutenant-General. He has ever been my rock ahead. That silly coxcomb has done more to mar my destiny than scores of real enemies. To shoot him would be to throw a shell in the very midst of them.”

“I 'd rather loot him, if I had the choice; the old General has lots of money. Stapylton, scuttle the ship, if you like, but first let me land the cargo. Of all the vengeances a man can wreak on another the weakest is to kill him. For my part, I 'd cherish the fellow that injured me. I 'd set myself to study his tastes and learn his ambitions. I 'd watch over him and follow him, being, as it were, his dearest of all friends,—read backwards!”

“This is tiresome scoundrelism. I'll to bed,” said Stapylton, taking a candle from the table.

“Well, if you must shoot this fellow, wait till he's married; wait for the honeymoon.”

“There's some sense in that. I 'll go and sleep over it.”