His duelling propensities had kept him out of all the first Clubs in London. He once applied to Admiral Keith Stewart to propose him as a candidate for Brookes's; when the Admiral, knowing that he must either fight or comply with his request, chose the latter. Accordingly, on the night when the ballot was to take place (which was only a mere form in this case, for even Keith Stewart had resolved to _black-ball_ him), the duellist accompanied the Admiral to St. James's-street, and waited in the room below, while the ballot was taken. This was soon done; for, without hesitation, each member threw in a _black ball_; and when the scrutiny came, the company were not a little amazed to find not even _one_ white ball among the number. However, the rejection being carried _nem. con._, the question was, which of the members had the hardihood to announce the result to the expectant candidate. No one would undertake the office, for the announcement was thought sure to produce a challenge; and a duel with Fitzgerald had, in most cases, been fatal to his opponent. The general opinion was that the proposer, Admiral Stewart, should convey the intelligence. "No, gentlemen," said he, "I proposed the fellow because I knew you would not admit him; but, by Jove, I have no inclination to risk my life against that of a madman." "But, Admiral," replied the Duke of Devonshire,[9] "there being no _white ball_ in the box, he must know that _you_ have black-balled him as well as the rest, and he is sure to call you out at all events." This posed the Admiral, who, after some hesitation, proposed that the waiter should tell Fitzgerald that there was _one_ black ball, and that his name must be put up again if he wished it. All concurred in the propriety of this plan, and the waiter was dispatched on the mission. In the meantime, Fitzgerald had frequently rung the bell to inquire "the state of the poll," and had sent each waiter to ascertain, but neither durst return, when Mr. Brookes took the message from the waiter who was descending the staircase, and boldly entered the room, with a coffee equipage in his hand. "Did you call for coffee, Sir?" said Mr. Brookes, smartly. "D--n your coffee, Sir! and you too," answered Mr. Fitzgerald, in a voice which made the host's blood run cold. "I want to know, Sir, and that without one moment's delay, Sir, if I am _chose_ yet?" "Oh, Sir!" replied Mr. Brookes, attempting to smile away the appearance of fear, "I beg your pardon, Sir, but I was just coming to announce to you, Sir, with Admiral Stewart's compliments, Sir, that unfortunately there was one black ball in the box, Sir; and consequently, by the rules of the Club, Sir, no candidate can be admitted without a new election, Sir;--which cannot take place, by the standing regulations of the Club, Sir, until one month from this time, Sir."