While the parties were thus conversing, they perceived a boat pulling towards the ship, and Stewart recognised in it a Captain Wilthorpe, an officer in the Columbian service, a professed duellist, and the constant and worthy companion of D’Egville. Stewart had strange forebodings at this unexpected visit, which were soon realised. Wilthorpe came on board, and, after politely saluting the captain and his friend, delivered a message from Henri d’Egville, who had considered himself mystified by Stewart’s having sought to impose upon him an English song for a Gaëlic specimen. The Scotch captain expressed his surprise at this communication, and at the same time declared his firm resolution not to fight a duel after the melancholy result of a former one in which he had been engaged. Wilthorpe withdrew and returned to his boat. Stewart, shortly after having occasion to go on shore, met D’Egville on horseback, when the latter rode up to him, struck him with a horsewhip, and galloped off. Stewart, greatly indignant at this outrageous conduct, formed the resolution of ridding the world of such a pestilence; and at the same time perilling his own life by compelling the Frenchman to fight a duel which would render the fall of both of them certain. He sent him a message, and requested a meeting behind the Iguanna rocks. He then, accompanied by two of his men, proceeded to the rendezvous, and directed them to dig a grave sufficiently deep to receive two bodies. D’Egville soon appeared, and Stewart proposed, as conditions of the duel, that they both should stand in the grave, holding their pistols in one hand and the end of a pocket-handkerchief in the other. The sun was shedding its parting rays on the wild spot he had selected. Stewart was firm and calm: the Frenchman, despite his efforts to appear undismayed, betrayed evident signs of perturbation. The seconds, one of whom was Wilthorpe, drew lots for the word of command--the fatal signal of death. The parties descended into the pit; Stewart with an undaunted step, D’Egville with much trepidation. The handkerchief was placed in their hands, firmly grasped by the Scotchman, tremblingly held by the creole: the word “Fire” was about to be given, when the ruffian swooned and fell at the feet of his adversary. Stewart spurned him with his foot, as a dastardly and contemptible coward, and left him to the care of his worthy companion and friend.