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“I did,” was the angry retort.

“Gentlemen never do such things.”

As Blake said this with marked emphasis, he looked steadily into the officer’s face.

“You’ll hear from me, sir.” And as the officer said this, menacingly, he turned and walked away with a military air.

“There’s trouble for you now, Blake; he’ll challenge you,” said two or three friends who instantly gathered around him.

“Do you think so?”

“Certainly; he is an officer–fighting is his trade.”

“Well, let him.”

“What’ll you do?”

“Accept the challenge, of course.”

“And fight?”

“Certainly.”

“He’ll shoot you.”

“I’m not afraid.”

Blake returned with his friend to his lodgings, where he found a billet already from Redmond, who was all eagerness to wing his rival.

On the next morning, two friends of the bellige-rents were closeted for the purpose of arranging the preliminaries for the fight.

“The weapon?” asked the friend of the military man. “Your principal, by the laws of honour, has the choice; as, also, to name time and place, etc.”

“Yes, I understand. All is settled.”

“He will fight, then?”

“Fight? Oh, certainly; Blake is no coward.”

“Well, then, name the weapons.”

“A pair of goose-quills.”

“Sir!” in profound astonishment.

“The weapons are to be a pair of good Russia quills, opaque, manufactured into pens of approved quality. The place of meeting, the–mdash; Gazette; the time, to-morrow morning, bright and early.”

“Do you mean to insult me?”

“By no means.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Never was more serious in my life. By the code of honour, the challenged party has the right to choose weapons, place of meeting, and time. Is it not so?”

“Certainly.”

“Very well. Your principal has challenged mine. All these rights are of course his; and he is justified in choosing those weapons with which he is most familiar. The weapon he can use best is the pen, and he chooses that. If Lieut. Redmond had been the challenged party, he would, of course, have named pistols, with which he is familiar, and Mr. Blake would have been called a coward, poltroon, or something as bad, if, after sending a challenge, he had objected to the weapons. Will your principal find himself in a different position if he decline this meeting on like grounds? I think not. Pens are as good as pistols at any time, and will do as much.”

“Fighting with pens! Preposterous!”

“Not quite so preposterous as you may think. Mr. B. has more than insinuated that Mr. Redmond is no gentleman. For this he is challenged to a single combat that is to prove him to be a gentleman or not one. Surely the most sensible weapon with which to do this is the pen. Pistols won’t demonstrate the matter; only the pen can do it, so the pen is chosen. In the–Gazette of to-morrow morning my friend stands ready to prove that he is a gentleman; and your friend that he is one, and that a gentleman has a right to insult publicly and without provocation whomsoever he pleases. Depend upon it, you will find this quite as serious an affair as if pistols were used.”

“I did not come here, sir, to be trifled with.”

“No trifling in the matter at all; I am in sober earnest. Pens are the weapons; the–Gazette, the battle-ground; time, early as you please to-morrow morning. Are you prepared for the meeting?”

“No.”

“Do you understand the consequences?”

“What consequences?”

“Your principal will be posted as a coward before night.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, cool and earnest. We fully understand what we are about.”

The officer’s second was nonplussed; he did not know what to say or think. He was unprepared for such a position of affairs.

“I’ll see you in the course of an hour,” he at length said, rising.

“Very well; you will find me here.”

“Is all settled?” asked the valiant lieutenant, as his second came into his room at the hotel, where he was pacing the floor.

“Settled? No; nor likely to be. I objected to the weapons, and, indeed, the whole proposed arrangement.”

“Objected to the weapons! And, pray, what did he name? A blunderbuss?”

“No; nor a duck gun, with trumpet muzzle; but an infernal pen!”