It only remained, therefore, to remove Pledget. He, poor man, though all the better for a night's rest and a clean shirt, still looked very unlike himself. He had rested, indeed, but he had not slept; and his medical colleague hinted to Gingham, ere we departed, that the case still required vigilance and care. The state of Pledget's mind, at this time, was singular; he had all at once become excessively ceremonious. When we reached the garden gate he drew up; insisted that we should both precede him in going out. Had Gingham and I been equally punctilious, we should not have reached Toulouse by dinner-time. Gingham had a matter upon his mind. Captain Gabion having expressed a last wish respecting his funeral, Gingham had undertaken the whole details, and some arrangements had been necessary at the chateau, or our departed friend would speedily have been consigned, on the spot, to a ready-made grave. Gingham mentioned the subject as we rode along, and began stating what steps he had taken. Pledget, who was ambling side by side with us on his mule, suddenly fell behind. Coosey, previously admonished by Gingham, kept still further in the rear. We waited till Pledget came up. "Why, Mr Pledget," said Gingham, "I thought we had lost you, sir." "Excuse me, sir," said Pledget, with gravity; "you are making a confidential communication. Part of it I unintentionally overheard. For this, an apology is due to both of you. Gentlemen, I most humbly beg your pardon." We rode on. Presently, Pledget edged up alongside of me, as though he had something important to communicate. "Mr Y----," said he, "I consider it the first duty which one gentleman owes another, to avoid giving him needless offence." Not exactly perceiving to what this observation tended, I could only bow my acquiescence. "But if," continued Pledget, "an offence is actually given, then I conceive the next duty is to make reparation by a humble apology." Apology, it was evident, was now the uppermost idea in poor Pledget's mind. "Well, sir," said I, seeking to divert his thoughts, "I think, in such a case, regard should be had to the feelings of both parties. And, judging by my own, I should say that, next to making an apology, there are few things one would more wish to avoid than receiving one." "And accordingly," said Gingham, "in the intercourse of gentlemen, it rarely, very rarely occurs, that an actual apology is deemed requisite. To signify an intention, to express a willingness to apologise, is in most cases thought amply satisfactory. Manly feeling forbids the rest; and honour itself exacts no more." Pledget rode on awhile, absorbed in thought.