“They have occurred again since you have been in this house!” Brennan broke forth excitedly. “You are not a coward, but I brand you here and now as sneak and liar! Now will you fight?” We stood for a moment in utter silence, eye to eye, and I knew there was no help for it. These words, publicly spoken, left me no choice. “I am at your service, Major Brennan,” I returned sternly, “now, or at any time. But I am unfortunate here in having no officer of my army present, and hence can name no second.” “Doubtless one of these gentlemen will consent to serve,” he said, his face brightening at my rejoinder. There was a moment of hesitation, natural enough, for they could scarcely feel like pitting themselves against a brother officer in a quarrel the merits of which were so obscure. I was about to speak, volunteering to stand alone, when some one hastily pushed a way to the front, and Lieutenant Caton, pale but determined, stood at my shoulder. “It will afford me pleasure to act for Captain Wayne,” he said clearly, “if he will accept my services. Moreover,” he added, with a significant glance at Brennan, “I do this as a friend, and with full confidence that I am upon the right side in the quarrel.” For a moment no one spoke, Brennan biting his moustache to keep back words he durst not utter. Then Caton turned to me. “If you will retire to the library, Wayne, I will arrange this matter with whoever may represent Major Brennan.” With a slight formal bow to those present I quitted the room. CHAPTER XXXVI THE LAST RESORT OF GENTLEMEN I found the library deserted, and paced the floor for fully half an hour before Caton appeared. Stung as I had been by Brennan's harsh, uncalled-for words, I yet shrank from the thought that I must now meet him in deadly combat. It was no fear of personal injury that troubled me; indeed I do not recall giving this the slightest consideration, for my mind was altogether concentrated upon what such a meeting must necessarily mean to Edith Brennan, and how it would affect all our future relationship. This was the thought that swayed and mastered me. I had pledged myself to avoid him, and indeed had used every means possible to that end. I was even willing to go forth stamped by his denunciation rather than involve her in such controversy. But the effort was fruitless, and I must now stand before him, or else forever forfeit my manhood. Thus the die was already cast, yet in one point I might still prove true to the spirit of my pledge, and retain her approbation--I could permit my antagonist to leave the field unscathed.