Lord Kilmaurs was the eldest son of the Earl of Glencarne, and was one of the best-natured persons imaginable; but, unfortunately, was extremely deaf. Being one evening at the playhouse, he was talking rather loudly to the person who sat next to him, as deaf people generally do. This happened to give offence to a French officer, who was in the neighbouring box, who called out to his Lordship “_Paix!_” (silence); which word the officer repeated two or three times without its being heard, or of course attended to. Upon which the Frenchman rose, and exclaimed, with great violence in an angry tone of voice, “_Taisez-vous!_” His Lordship this time heard the insolent address; and observing the supercilious air that accompanied it, replied, that as the other had no right to command silence there, he should show his utter contempt of his insolent injunction by talking still louder, which he accordingly did. The French officer soon after left the box; and, as his Lordship’s ill star would have it, he also quitted his, and went into another, where the same officer was, but, it is reported, without the least thought of what had taken place, so much so indeed, that looking about him on entering the box, he cast his eyes on the officer without recollecting him. The indignant Frenchman ran up to him, and asked him, what he meant by staring him in the face. To which Lord Kilmaurs replied, that he had a right to look at any one. The officer indignantly replied, that he was not to be treated in such a manner with impunity. Without any further preamble he exclaimed, “Come along!” and pulled his Lordship by the arm out of the box, and in the middle of the street struck him across the shoulder with his naked sword. Upon which Lord Kilmaurs drew, and made a pass or two; and before any one arrived to part them, received the sword of his antagonist in the pit of his stomach, whence it passed through his right shoulder; on which they were parted. They were immediately surrounded by numberless spectators. At first his Lordship was hardly sensible of his wound, but in a few moments he dropped down speechless; in which situation he must inevitably have been smothered by the pressing on of the crowd, had not the Duke de Pequigny brought a guard to keep them off. Again, he ran the risk of being stifled with his own blood, had not a surgeon, passing through the crowd, cut his stock and the neck of his shirt, and applied some drops to his nostrils. He remained several hours speechless, with almost every mortal symptom. These, however, passed off, and in three days he was out of danger. The officer took post immediately into the Pope’s dominions at Avignon, while a short detail of the affair was sent to the British ambassador at Paris, who settled the affair. * * * * *