"And now, Harry, I will suppose thee in a moralizing mood; that is, I will fancy the dice have run wrong--or your double-barrel has hung fire--or a certain lady has looked cross--or any such weighty cause of gravity has occurred, and you give me the benefit of your seriousness.--'My dear Etherington,' say you pithily, 'you are a precious fool!--Here you are, stirring up a business rather scandalous in itself, and fraught with mischief to all concerned--a business which might sleep for ever, if you let it alone, but which is sure, like a sea-coal fire, to burst into a flame if you go on poking it. I would like to ask your lordship only two questions,'--say you, with your usual graceful attitude of adjusting your perpendicular shirt-collar, and passing your hand over the knot of your cravat, which deserves a peculiar place in the _Tietania_[II-A][II-5]--'only two questions--that is, Whether you do not repent the past, and whether you do not fear the future?' Very comprehensive queries, these of yours, Harry; for they respect both the time past and the time to come--one's whole life, in short. However, I shall endeavour to answer them as well as I may. "Repent the past, said you?--Yes, Harry, I think I do repent the past--that is, not quite in the parson's style of repentance, which resembles yours when you have a headache, but as I would repent a hand at cards which I had played on false principles. I should have begun with the young lady--availed myself in a very different manner of Monsieur Martigny's absence, and my own intimacy with her, and thus superseded him, if possible, in the damsel's affections. The scheme I adopted, though there was, I think, both boldness and dexterity in it, was that of a novice of premature genius, who could not calculate chances. So much for repentance.--Do I not fear the future?--Harry, I will not cut your throat for supposing you to have put the question, but calmly assure you, that I never feared any thing in my life. I was born without the sensation, I believe; at least, it is perfectly unknown to me. When I felt that cursed wheel pass across my breast, when I felt the pistol-ball benumb my arm, I felt no more agitation than at the bounce of a champagne-cork. But I would not have you think that I am fool enough to risk plague, trouble, and danger, all of which, besides considerable expense, I am now prepared to encounter, without some adequate motive,--and here it is.