The colonel rose and opened the door to the early comers. They were two handsome young men, who had on the previous evening already attracted Colonel A——’s attention by the extreme friendliness which they exhibited for each other. They respectfully saluted their commanding officer as they entered the room, and the latter broke an awkward silence by demanding of them the object of their visit. Ensign Warbottle again raised his hand in salute as he replied: ‘We have come to ask your permission to fight, colonel.’ ‘Indeed!’ exclaimed Colonel A——. ‘I thought you were great friends.’ ‘Yes, colonel, we have been most intimate friends from our youth upward,’ said Lord Vellum, ‘and we respect each other very sincerely; but we have had a dispute, and our wounded honour must be satisfied.’ ‘Then I presume that something very serious must have occurred, gentlemen, to make the only remedy for it a recourse to the pistol?’ ‘It is indeed a very serious matter, colonel,’ replied Ensign Warbottle; ‘and it is this. After you had left the table last night, we chatted over what you told us about the doings in London lately; and in the enthusiasm of the moment, I remarked that I should like to be there, riding at the head of a troop of Life Guards, and escorting the Prince Regent, with my silver helmet glittering in the sun and my drawn sword in my hand. Whereupon Lord Vellum said with a sneer that I was a feather-bed soldier, and that a leathern helmet would be quite good enough for such as I. I took no notice of this remark; but I was annoyed and excited; and when he further asserted that the officers of the Life Guards wore brass helmets, human nature could stand it no longer, and I gave him the lie. He retaliated by striking me on the face; an insult, Colonel A——, which justifies me, I think, in demanding a hostile meeting.’ The last words were said in a manner which admitted of only one meaning, and the two young officers exchanged glances of mutual hatred and defiance. ‘It is indeed grave, gentlemen,’ sententiously remarked the colonel: ‘the helmets worn by the officers of His Majesty’s Life Guards are neither silver nor brass, but white metal lacquered with silver-gilt; but this information will not, I presume, alter the position of affairs. Do you still wish to fight the question out?’ ‘Certainly, sir!’ exclaimed the two officers. ‘Very well,’ replied the colonel gravely, ‘far be it from me to interpose any obstacle to your meeting, gentlemen; but this duel must be a serious one, as befits so important a question as the Life Guards’ helmets, and not an affair resulting in a mere scratch, as I am given to understand is generally the case in these mess quarrels. Remember that you are British officers and not Spanish bravoes, and that the honour of a British officer can only be vindicated by the death of his opponent. Go, gentlemen, and fight your duel; and I will meet the survivor on his return.’