The rest of the preliminaries were speedily arranged, and upon the particulars of the duel we shall not pause. Every precaution was taken by Charles Tyrrell and his second to keep the matter so private that it could not reach the ears of the academical authorities, and in this they succeeded perfectly. Charles met his antagonist at a considerable distance from Oxford, and, as he had predetermined, did not fire at him, though he made no display of firing in the air. The other fired at him and missed him only by a few inches; and the moment that an exchange of shots had taken place, Lieutenant Hargrave's second walked up to Charles Tyrrell, saying, "I ask you, sir, as a gentleman and a man of honour, whether you fired at Lieutenant Hargrave?" "To a question so put," replied Charles, "I can but reply, that I did not." "Then the business can go no farther," said the lieutenant; "I presume you agree with me, sir?" he continued, turning to Charles Tyrrell's second. The other replied that he did so exactly; and, without any farther discussion, the parties prepared to separate. To Charles's surprise, however, he perceived, as they were getting into the chaise which brought them there, that Arthur Hargrave and his second parted also on the ground, with no other farewell than a cold bow on either side. Every precaution was adopted, in returning to Oxford, to avoid attracting attention, and, by extreme prudence and care, not a whisper of the transaction spread through the university. Everything resumed its usual train in the life of Charles Tyrrell, and he fancied the matter would never be farther heard of, when he suddenly was aroused from this dream of repose by receiving the bitter but laconic note from his father, which we mentioned in a former chapter, bidding him come immediately to Harbury Park. The tone of this epistle led him to believe, upon full consideration, that Sir Francis was acquainted with the whole affair of the duel, though of course he did not know, till he reached home, that his engagement with Lucy Effingham had been also disclosed. He prepared, however, instantly to obey the summons he had received, and certainly did not suppose that his father, who had always been an advocate for duelling, would now entertain any very serious wrath at what had occurred, if the matter were properly explained to him. Making his preparations, therefore, with as much quickness as possible, he set out, on the morning after the receipt of his father's note, upon a journey destined to prove the most important of his life. He followed the same course that he had pursued on his preceding journey, going first to London, and then making his way onward by the heavy nightcoach.