‘The ballot was soon over, for without hesitation every member threw in a _black ball_, and, when the scrutiny took place, the company were not a little amazed to find not even _one_ white one among the number. However, the point of rejection being carried _nem. con._, the grand affair now was as to which of the members had the hardihood to announce the same to the expectant candidate. No one would undertake the office, for the announcement was sure to produce a challenge, and a duel with Fighting Fitzgerald had in almost every case been fatal to his opponent. The general opinion, however, was that the proposer, Admiral Stewart, should convey the intelligence, and that in as polite terms as possible; but the admiral, who was certainly on all proper occasions a very gallant officer, was not inclined to go on any such embassy. ‘“No, gentlemen,” said he; “I proposed the fellow because I knew you would not admit him; but, by G--d, I have no inclination to risk my life against that of a madman.” ‘“But, admiral,” replied the Duke of Devonshire, “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 was a poser for the poor admiral, who sat silent for a few seconds amidst the half-suppressed titter of the members. At length, joining in the laugh against himself, he exclaimed, ‘“Upon my soul, a pleasant job I’ve got into! D----n the fellow! No matter! I won’t go. Let the waiter tell him that there was _one_ black ball, and that his name must be put up again if he wishes it.” ‘This plan appeared so judicious that all concurred in its propriety. Accordingly the waiter was a few minutes after despatched on the mission. ‘In the meantime Mr. Fitzgerald showed evident symptoms of impatience at being kept so long from his “dear friends” above stairs, and frequently rang the bell to know _the state of the poll_. On the first occasion he thus addressed the waiter who answered his summons: ‘“Come here, my tight little fellow. Do you know if I am _chose_ yet?” ‘“I really can’t say, sir,” replied the young man, “but I’ll see.” ‘“There’s a nice little man; be quick, d’ye see, and I’ll give ye sixpence when ye come with the good news.” ‘Away went the _little man_; but he was in no hurry to come back, for he as well as his fellows was sufficiently aware of Fitzgerald’s violent temper, and wished to come in contact with him as seldom as possible. ‘The bell rang again, and to another waiter the impatient candidate put the same question: ‘“Am I chose yet, waither?” ‘“The balloting is not over yet, sir,” replied the man. ‘“Not over yet!” exclaimed Fitzgerald. “But, sure, there is no use of balloting at all when my dear friends are all unanimous for me to come in. Run, my man, and let me know how they are getting on.”