But on the following morning, Onions, whose tongue was as open as his own nature, got talking to the school. And the matter reached the ears of Gall. "Says he would like to meet me in a duel! says he is a better shot than I! _Is_ he? If I chose to take him at his word and meet him, he'd see who was the best shot." "And so I am a better shot," affirmed Loftus, coming forward to face Gall. "What should _you_ know about shooting? It is an art that belongs to gentlemen." In point of fact, neither of the two could shoot at all. Gall lifted his finger. "Look here, Loftus. This is not a time to be taken up with petty interests: I can't afford the leisure for it, if you can; neither shall the school. We'll settle matters, you and I, when the Oxford's over." "Agreed. Mind you don't flinch from it," was the scornful conclusion. Gall spoke rather without his host, in saying that the school should not waste its time in disputes. At that very moment, the school was divided into groups, some taking Gall's part, some taking Loftus's, some differing on private matters of their own. After morning study, the various dissensions seemed to have merged into one single outbreak, and that was between Loftus minor and Paradyne. Paradyne had been taunted well that morning, by Dick especially, and he turned at length on the taunter. It was in the quadrangle. "Because I have borne what hardly anybody else would, you think I _can't_ retaliate; you think I am a coward! Try me, Dick Loftus." Dick—hot, impulsive, passionate Dick—dashed in and struck the first blow. That was his answer. Off went the jackets, the boys closed round in a ring; it was to be an impromptu, stand-up, hand-to-hand fight. And the very cries would have decided it, could cries decide. Every encouragement was heaped cheerily on Dick, every derisive insult that tongue can utter was levelled at Paradyne: never had the feeling of the school been more palpably displayed than now. Paradyne stood his ground bravely: cool, collected, retaining his temper and his self-possession, he proved a great deal more than a match for Dick, who had very shortly to acknowledge himself beaten. Paradyne had not a scratch upon his face; parrying all blows successfully, to this he chiefly confined himself, and, instead of punishing Dick, had been content to show that he could have punished if he would. "And now," said he, as he put on his jacket, "as you see that I can fight, perhaps you'll let me alone for the future. I shan't take things so patiently as I have done." He set off to run home to dinner; and a glow of admiration went out after him from all that were unprejudiced. The boy had half won their hearts with his gallant bearing. He appeared at his desk as usual in the afternoon. Dick Loftus was at his, a little sore about the arms. Suddenly, amidst the silence that follows the first settling down of a large number of students, a voice was heard. "Who has done this?"