"I had hoped to be spared this severest trial of all," the young man said, rising and grasping the hand of his father, while the tears sprang to his eyes. "What officious friend has taken the pains to disturb both your peace and mine--dragging you thus away from your home, in the vain effort to prevent an act that must take place." "Speak not so rashly, my son! It cannot, it must not, it shall not take place!" "I have no power to prevent it, father." "You are a free agent." "Not to do a deed of dishonour,--or, rather, I am not free to suffer dishonour." "There is no honour in wantonly risking or taking life, Harvey." "I insulted a friend, in the grossest manner." "_That_ was dishonourable. But why did you insult him?" "I was _flushed with wine_." The old man shook his head, sadly. "I know it was wrong, father. But it can't be helped now. Well, as I said; I insulted him, and he has demanded satisfaction. Can I do less than give it to him?" "If you insulted him, you can apologize. And, from what I know of James Everett, he will at once forgive." "I cannot do that now, father. He threw a bottle of wine at my head, and then precipitately challenged me. I owe at least something to myself." "And something, I should think, to your mother, if not to me," replied the old man, bitterly. "How, think you she will receive the news of your death, if the combat should terminate fatally for you? Or, how, if your hands should become stained with the blood of your friend?" "Talk not thus, father! Talk not thus!" ejaculated the young man, rising up quickly, and beginning to pace the floor of his chamber with hurried steps. "Is not my situation dreadful enough viewed in any light? Then why seek to agonize my heart with what I would gladly forget? I am already racked with tortures that can scarcely be endured--why seek to run my cup of misery over?" "I seek but to save you, my child," the father replied, in a voice that suddenly became low and tremulous. "It is a vain effort. There is but one course for me, and that is to go on, and meet whatever consequences ensue. The result may not be so bad as feared." "Harvey!" old Mr. Lane said, in a voice that had somewhat regained its steadiness of tone. "This meeting must not take place. If you persist in going out tomorrow morning, I must take measures to prevent it." "And thus dishonour your son." "All dishonour that will appertain to you, Harvey, appertains to you now. You insulted your friend. Neither your death nor his can atone for that offence. If reparation be truly made, it will come in some other form."