"I and Shrewsbury laid our heads together; we didn't want, you know, to aid them in going in for such a chance as _death_; Besides, duelling is over, let Bertie Loftus say what he will. We agreed _not to load the pistols_; but that fool of a Brown major got putting his tongue into it, saying we must take a surgeon. We couldn't say we'd not, for fear of exciting suspicion, and he proposed his big brother who is at St. George's, and we took him. What we feared was, that he might get looking to the pistols; which would have spoilt the game. He didn't though, and was in an awful fright all the time. He placed our men at the distance of twenty paces—you should have seen the combatants; the two were as white as this table cloth—and gave the signal to fire. At the moment the pistols went off I gave Loftus a smart knock in the back with some pieces of brass that jangled frightfully; Talbot gave Gall the same, and down the two went, thinking they were both shot. Oh my goodness! I shall never get over it to the last hour of my life," broke off Onions, struggling and spluttering. "Mr. Henry, if I were in church,—if I were watching somebody dead,—if I were before the examiners for the Oxford, and thought of it, I must laugh." It seemed so, by the way he was laughing now. "They thought they were shot, and there they lay; and Bob Brown came up with a long face, getting out his case of instruments. 'Where are you struck?' says he, beginning with Gall who was nearest him; 'whereabouts has the bullet gone into you?' 'I think it went into my back,' says Gall, with a groan. 'Let's see,' says Brown, delicately turning him a little, 'perhaps it came out there? No, there's no hole in your coat at the back. Why, you're not shot at all!' he shouts out, as Gall got up and felt himself. Oh my stars, but it was rich! I and the earl had to keep our countenances, and nearly died of it." Mr. Henry was laughing quietly; and the crowded room turned round once more and gazed at the College lad. "I made off with the pistols. That had been arranged. Oh, I assure you we laid the programme well, and rehearsed our parts over and over. My mother walked me off to a miserable ball the previous night; but Lord Shrewsbury came to sleep in my room, and we were practising the thrust upon each other's backs till daylight. We got a brass candlestick out of Lady Sophia's chamber and battered it up for the pieces; the hotel people, finding it had disappeared, thought my Lady must have swallowed it. I've got the brass yet." He laid his head down on the table, not exactly after a public fashion; shaking and convulsed. "Go on," said Mr. Henry. "There's no more fun to tell. I made off with the pistols, for fear they should find out the trick, and fight in earnest—but they must have gone to the town for bullets first. Sir Simon Orville came on the scene then, and——." "Who had warned him of it?"