The Continental Monthly, Vol. 1, No. 2, February, 1862: Devoted To Literature And National PolicyVarious
History
The Continental Monthly, Vol. 1, No. 2, February, 1862: Devoted To Literature And National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
When the train stopped at Camden, four gentlemen got off, and walked,
arm-in-arm, rapidly and silently, up one of the by-streets, and struck
off into a foot-path leading to a secluded grove outside the town. Of
the first two, one was our military friend in a blue coat, apparently
the leader of the party. Of the second two, one was a smiling, rosy
little man, carrying a black valise. Their respective companions walked
with hasty, irregular strides, were abstracted, and--apparently ill at
ease.
The party stopped.
'This is the place,' said Captain Jones.
'Yes,' said Doctor Smith.
The Captain and the Doctor conferred together. The other two studiously
kept apart.
'Very well. I'll measure the ground, and do you place your man.'
It was done.
'Now for the pistols,' whispered the Captain to his fellow-second.
'They are all ready, in the valise,' replied the Doctor.
The principals were placed, ten paces apart, and wearing that decidedly
uncomfortable air a man has who is in momentary expectation of being
shot.
'You will fire, gentlemen, simultaneously, when I give the word,' said
the Captain. Then, in an undertone, to the Doctor, 'Quick, the pistols.'
The Doctor, stooping over and fumbling at the valise, appeared to find
something that surprised him.
'Why, what the devil--'
'What's the matter?' asked the Captain, striding up. 'Can't you find the
caps?'
'Deuce a pistol or cap, but this!'
He held up--a lady's night-cap!
'Look here--and here--and here!'--holding up successively a hair-brush,
a long, white night-gown, a cologne-bottle, and a comb.
They were greeted with a long whistle by the Captain, and a blank stare
by the two principals.
'Confound the luck!' ejaculated the Captain; 'if we haven't made a
mistake, and brought the wrong valise!'
The principals looked at the seconds. The seconds looked at the
principals. Nobody volunteered a suggestion. At last the Doctor
inquired,
'Well, what's to be done?'
'D----d unlucky!' again ejaculated the Captain. 'The duel can't go on.'
'Evidently not,' responded the Doctor, 'unless they brain each other
with the hair-brush, or take a pop at each other with the
cologne-bottle.'
'You are quite sure there are no pistols in the valise?' said one of the
principals, with suppressed eagerness, and drawing a long breath of
evident relief.
'We might go over to the city and get pistols,' proposed the Captain.
'And by that time it will he dark,' said the Doctor.
'D----d unlucky,' said the Captain again.
'We shall be the laughing-stock of the town,' consolingly remarked the
Doctor, 'if this gets wind.'
'One word with you, Doctor,' here interposed his principal.
They conferred.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account