“I did not say that, Alick; quite the contrary! You have been wronged, and I will see you righted if I can—and righted in your own way too!” “Then you will take my challenge?” “With all my heart. To whom am I to take it?” “To Prince Ernest of Hohenlinden. May the demon fly away with him!” “To Prince Ernest of Hohenlinden, _Whew!_” “What’s the matter?” “He’s a dead shot—the deadliest shot on this side the ocean!” “That is not saying much for him! I’m a second or third rate marksman on the other side of the ocean. So that makes us about equal. Will you come to my room now, Tredegar? I wish to write my despatch and send it off at once. No time should be lost in these affairs.” “What! are you in such hot haste to meet your foe? Are your feet so ‘swift to shed blood?’ Will you then rush, as our grand Halleck has it— ‘To death as to a festival?’ Alick, Alick! I am sorry for you!” “Spare your compassion and come to my room,” said Alexander, rising and leading the way through the halls and corridors that led to his own sumptuous suite of apartments. Arrived there, Alexander made Francis Tredegar sit down, while he placed himself at his writing-desk and penned his challenge to the prince. “I shall not have far to seek, at any rate,” said Mr. Tredegar, as he received the note, “for Prince Ernest has apartments on this very floor.” “I knew of course that he was stopping here,” said Alexander. “And now then, if it is a discreet question, who is the fair lady for whose sake two such gallant knights are to do battle?” inquired Tredegar, poising the paper on his finger. “But it is _not_ a fair question, Tredegar. The name of the lady should never be mentioned in such matters. I cannot utter it even to you, dear Francis,” said Alick gravely. “All right. But see here! It is never that beautiful young widow, Mrs. Lyon, who made such a sensation as the belle of the ball last night?” “Bosh!” exclaimed Alexander, growing deadly white, and jerking himself around in apparent impatience, but with a real desire to conceal his emotion—“Bosh, I say! It is no widow for whose sake I wish to meet him. There is not a widow alive in whom I feel the slightest interest!” “Well, then, I think you are all at sea about the prince. He thinks of no other woman in the world but the beautiful widow. His devotion to her was the general topic of conversation last night.” “And I tell you that you are all ‘at sea,’ as you call it, my dear Francis. Come! you have taken my word for the justice of my cause, now take my challenge to my foe.” “Well, that is soon done, unless he has gone to bed.” “That he has not I will venture to predict. He is waiting my challenge.” “As eager for the fray as yourself, eh?” “Quite.” “But see here, Alick! I promised to stand by you in this cause, and I will do it; but though I bear your challenge, I shall try to settle this affair amicably.” “‘Amicably?’ It can never——”