"According to my memory, at our last interview over the social glass in your own house, I think something was said of a proposition coming from you. That is--er," continued the Colonel, loftily, "I hold myself responsible for the mistake, if any." It had been Mr. Dumphy's first intention to assume the roughly offensive; to curtly inform Colonel Starbottle of the flight of his confederate, and dare him to do his worst. But for certain vague reasons he changed his plan of tactics. He drew his chair closer to the Colonel, and clapping his hand familiarly on his shoulder, began-- "You're a man of the world, Starbottle, so am I. _Sabe?_ You're a gentleman--so am I," he continued, hastily. "But I'm a business man, and you're not. _Sabe?_ Let's understand each other. No offence, you know, but in the way of business. This woman, claiming to be my wife, don't exist--it's all right, you know, I understand. I don't blame _you_, but you've been deceived, and all that sort of thing. I've got the proofs. Now as a man of the world and a gentleman and a business man, when I say the game's up! you'll understand me. Look at that--there!" He thrust into Starbottle's hand the telegram of the preceding day, "There! the man's hung by this time--lynched! The woman's gone!" Colonel Starbottle read the telegram without any perceptible dismay or astonishment. "Conroy! Conroy!--don't know the man. There was a McConroy, of St. Jo, but I don't think it's the same. No, sir! This ain't like him, sir! Don't seem to be a duel, unless he'd posted the man to kill on sight--murder's an ugly word to use to gentlemen. D--n me, sir, I don't know but he could hold the man responsible who sent that despatch. It's offensive, sir--very!" "And you don't know Mrs. Conroy?" continued Mr. Dumphy, fixing his eyes on Colonel Starbottle's face. "Mrs. Conroy! The wife of the superintendent--one of the most beautiful women! Good Ged, sir, I do! And I'm dev'lish sorry for her. But what's this got to do with our affair? Oh! I see, Ged!"--the Colonel suddenly chuckled, drew out his handkerchief, and waved it in the air with deprecatory gallantry, "gossip, sir, all gossip. People will talk! A fine woman! Blank me, if she was inclined to show some attention to Colonel Starbottle--Ged, sir, it was no more than other women have. You comprehend, Dumphy? Ged, sir, so the story's got round, eh?--husband's jealous--killed wrong man! Folks think she's run off with Colonel Starbottle, ha! ha! No, sir," he continued, suddenly dropping into an attitude of dignified severity. "You can say that Colonel Starbottle branded the story as a lie, sir! That whatever might have been the foolish indiscretion of a susceptible sex, Colonel Starbottle will defend the reputation of that lady, sir, with his life--with his life!"