"Ah, well! ’twas bound to end sooner or later, and as well this way as another," he answered with a short laugh. "In truth, ’twas a hole and corner business, and I am weary of it." "You have been to visit your sister at the Manor House?" queried the captain. The prisoner looked up haughtily. "My past movements are my own affairs, sir; you and I are concerned with the present alone." "I take you, sir," answered the captain quietly. "Moreover, I understand the reason of your presence here, and I honour you for it. It is irregular, of course, but under the circumstances, I cannot refuse to give you every satisfaction." "Satisfaction!" exclaimed the prisoner in astonishment. "Aye, sir. You doubtless understand me." "Not I. I have no personal quarrel with you, that I know of." "No quarrel! Then am I wrong in supposing you to be the brother of Mistress Barbara Winslow?" "And what then, sir," demanded the prisoner sharply. "What of her?" Captain Protheroe shrugged his shoulders. "Ah! I see I am mistaken," he replied. "I deemed, sir, you had ventured hither in order to seek me and to demand satisfaction for my behaviour towards your sister. But since——" "Will you have the goodness to explain, sir," interrupted the prisoner fiercely. The captain smiled calmly. "Egad! I confess ’twas a somewhat low piece of work. But the wench was so exasperating and withal so pretty. And I give you my word," he added with a cynical laugh, "she showed no over-great reluctance to my kisses." The prisoner sprang to his feet, his fists clenched, his eyes blazing with passion. "May Heaven have mercy on you, sir, but ’tis a most dastardly lie." "Heaven will need have mercy on you my friend, if you give the lie so freely," answered the captain coldly. "But perchance you are willing to fight now, sir, unless"—with a laugh—"you have smaller regard for your sister’s reputation than I surmised." "Now, by Heaven! you shall swallow your words," cried the youth, white with fury. Captain Protheroe rose. "I am at your service," he answered coolly. "I have two rapiers handy, there is no time like the present, and as for place, why this chamber will serve as well as anywhere." The prisoner bowed assent, and after a moment’s hesitation flung off his cloak and turned to take his rapier. "One moment, sir," continued the captain. "Seeing that I am in no manner bound to grant you, my prisoner, this satisfaction, before I indulge you there is one stipulation I would make." "Name it." "That the encounter be _à entrance_." Then seeing his opponent hesitate, he continued: