"Pray, then," he said, "what was Sir Charles Tyrrell, the prisoner at the bar, doing at the time that he was with you, you have just stated?" Captain Long, however, was not a man to be easily outdone, and he replied:-- "Why, part of the time he was walking up under the park-wall toward me; part of the time he was talking to me, and part of the time he was walking away again; part of the time he was turning to look at what we were about; part of the time he was coming back again to us, and part of the time he was going back to his own house;" and Captain Long put his hands behind his back, and looked the lawyer straight in the face, while a general and unbecoming titter ran through the court. "Silence!" exclaimed the judge; "this is very indecent! I do not, however, think our learned brother can press the witness to say anything that might criminate himself." "I have no objection, my lord," replied Longly, turning toward the judge, "to say anything in the world, if I am asked in a civil way, do you see; but if he tries to brow-beat me, he shall find himself mistaken." "You must respect the court, sir," replied the judge. "We will not suffer you to be brow-beat, but you must remember the awful nature of the proceeding in which we are engaged. The life of a fellow-creature is at stake--a terrible crime has been committed, and the law must be satisfied. Have you any objection, Mr. Longly, to answer the court what was the business you were engaged in during the time that the prisoner at the bar was with you. You are not obliged, however, to say anything to criminate yourself, therefore, let your answer be considerate." Longly paused for a moment, ere he replied, and turned his eyes toward Everard Morrison; but then, slapping his knee after his own peculiar fashion, he answered, "Well, I don't care! It must be told one day, so it shall out now. Why, my lord, you see I was fighting a duel! There is no harm in that, I take it. There's not a man among you," and he looked around the court, "there's not a man among you that wouldn't fight, too, if a scoundrel were to come and attempt to kidnap your child--to take your daughter away against her will, and under false pretences. That's what I fought for." The movement produced in court by Longly's words, was indescribable, and even the judge was affected; but still greater was the sensation when the old seaman went on to describe the whole that had taken place, the provocation given, the conduct of young Hargrave and that of Charles Tyrrell, and ended by declaring that the young baronet had determined to stand his trial, and even die, rather than betray the trust reposed in him.