There seemed but one remedy--it was to be found only in “the bloody code,” miscalled “of honor”--the code which required a man to wash out any real or fancied offense in the life-stream of the offender; the code which often made an honorable man responsible, with his life, for careless words uttered by the women of his family; that code which now enjoined Philip Helmstedt to seek the life of his daughter’s betrothed, his intended son-in-law, his brother-in-arms. Nor was this all. The feeling that prompted Major Helmstedt was not only that of an affronted gentleman, who deems it necessary to defend in the duel his assailed manhood--it was much more--it was the blood-thirsty rage of a scornful and arrogant man, whose honor had been wounded in the most vulnerable place, through the only woman of his name, his one fair daughter, who had been by her betrothed and his family rejected, insulted, and expelled from their house, branded with indelible shame. “Ralph Houston must die!” He said it with remorseless resolution, with grim satisfaction, and in his heart devoted the souls of his purposed victim and all his family to the infernal deities. In this evil mood, and in an evil hour, Major Helmstedt unhappily arrived at Belleview, and, still more unhappily, there met Ralph, who, in pursuance of his vow never to set foot upon Buzzard’s Bluff again, had that morning landed at the village, with the intention there to engage a boat to take him to Helmstedt’s Island, whither he was going to seek Margaret. It was in the principal street of the village, and before the only hotel that they chanced to meet. Ralph advanced with eager joy to greet his father-in-law. But Major Helmstedt’s mad and blind rage forestalled and rendered impossible all friendly words or explanations. How he assailed and insulted Ralph Houston; how he hurled bitter scorn, taunt, and defiance in his teeth how in the presence of the gathering crowd, he charged falsehood, treachery, and cowardice upon him; how, to cap the climax of insult, the infuriate pulled off his glove and cast it sharply into the face of the young man; how, in short, he irremediably forced upon Ralph a quarrel, which the latter was, upon all accounts, most unwilling to take up, would be as painful, as needless, to detail at large. Suffice it to say, that the circumstances of the case, and the public sentiment of the day considered, he left the young soldier, as a man of honor, no possible alternative but to accept his challenge. “‘Needs must when the devil drives;’ and, as there is no honorable means of avoiding, I must meet this madman and receive his shot. I am not, however, obliged to return it. No code of honor can compel me to fire upon my Margaret’s father,” thought Ralph. Then aloud he said: