“How did you come to be there, then?” asked Norwood, half angrily. “I 'll tell you when I g-get out!” was the answer; and he disappeared from the loophole at which he carried on the conversation for some seconds. Norwood began to fancy that the whole was some mystification of his brain, for no trace of him was to be had; when he emerged from the boat-house with his hat stripped of the brim, and his clothes in tatters, his scratched face and hands attesting that his transit had not been of the easiest. “It's like a r-r-rat-hole,” cried he, puffing for breath. “And what the devil brought you there?” asked Norwood, rudely. “I ca-came out to see the fight!” cried he; “and when you're inside there you have a view of the whole park, and are quite safe, too.” “Then it was you who drove out in the calessino meant for the doctor?” said Norwood, with the air of a man who would not brook an equivocation. “Yes; that was a d-d-dodge of mine to get out here,” said he, chuckling. “Well, Master Purvis,” said Norwood, drawing his arm within his own, “if you can't be the 'doctor,' you shall at least be the 'second.' This is a dodge of mine; so come along, and no more about it.” “But I ca-can't; I never was--I never could be a se-se-second.” “You shall begin to-day, then, or my name's not Norwood. You've been the cause of a whole series of mishaps and misfortunes; and, by Jove! if the penalty were a heavier one, you should pay it.” “I tell you, I n-never saw a duel; I--I never f-fought one; I never will fight one; I don't even know how they g-go about it.” “You shall learn, sir, that 's all,” said Norwood, as he hastened along, dragging the miserable Purvis at his side. “But for you, sir,” continued he, in a voice thick with passion,--“but for you, sir, and your inveterate taste for prying into what does not concern you, we should have experienced no delay nor disappointment this morning. The consequences are, that I shall have to stand where another ought to have stood, and take to myself a quarrel in which I have had no share.” [Illustration: 022] “H-how is that? Do----do----do tell me all about it!” cried Purvis, eagerly. “I 'll tell you nothing, sir, not a syllable. Your personal adventures on this morning must be the subject of your revelations when you get back to Florence, if ever you do get back.” “Why, I--I'm----I'm not going to fight anybody,” exclaimed he, in terror. “No, sir, but _I_ am; and in the event of any disastrous incident, _your_ position may be unpleasant. If Trouville falls, you 'll have to make for Lombardy, and cross over into Switzerland; if he shoots me, you can take my passport; it is _visé_ for the Tyrol. As they know me at Innsprück, you 'd better keep to the southward,--some of the smaller places about Botzen, or Brixen.” “But I don't know Bo-Bo-Botzen on the map! and I don't see why I 'm to sk-sk-skulk about the Continent like a refu-refu-refugee Pole!”