“I am the friend of Serjeant Nickolls, sir,” said the other, in a voice meant to be eloquently meaning. “For your sake, the fact is to be deplored,” answered Daly, calmly. “But proceed.” With a great effort to subdue his passion, the other resumed: “It does not require your experience in such matters to know that the insult you have passed upon a high-minded and honorable gentleman--the gross and outrageous insult--should be atoned for by a meeting. We are here for this purpose, ready to accompany you, as soon as you have provided yourself with a friend, to wherever you appoint.” “Are you aware,” said Daly, in a whisper, “that I am bound over in heavy recognizances--” “Ah, indeed!” interrupted the other; “that, perhaps, may explain--” “Explain what, sir?” said Daly, as he grasped the formidable weapon which, more club than walking-stick, he invariably carried. “I meant nothing; I would only observe--” “Never observe, sir, when there's nothing to be remarked. I was informing you that I am bound over to keep the peace in this same kingdom of Ireland; circumstances compel me to be in England to-morrow morning,--circumstances of such moment that I have myself hired a vessel to convey me thither,--and although the object of my journey is far from agreeable, I shall deem it one of the happiest coincidences of my life if it can accommodate your friend's wishes. Nothing prevents my giving him the satisfaction he desires on English ground. I have sincere pleasure in offering him, and every gentleman of his party, a passage over--the tide serves in half an hour. Eh, Sandy?” “At a quarter to twelve, sir.” “The wind is fair.” “It is a hurricane,” replied the other, almost shuddering. “It blows fresh,” was Daly's cool remark. For a moment or two the stranger returned to his party, with whom he talked eagerly, and the voices of the others were also heard, speaking in evident excitement. “You have the pistols safe, Sandy?” whispered Daly. “They 're a' safe, and in the wherry; but you 'll no want them this time, I trow,” said Sandy, with a shrug of his shoulders; “yon folk would rather bide where they are the night, than tak' a bit o' pleasure in the Channel.” Daly smiled, and turned away to hide it, when the stranger again came forward. “I have consulted with my friends, Mr. Daly, who are also the friends of Serjeant Nickolls; they are of opinion that, under the circumstances of your being bound over, this affair cannot with propriety go further, although it might not, perhaps, be unreasonable to expect that you, feeling the peculiar situation in which you stand, might express some portion of regret at the utterance of this most severe attack.”