His lordship was miserably agitated, when he found that I seriously insisted on his leaving me to join his father, and perhaps he had, for this once, ventured to disobey me, had not his uncle, Lord William Somerset, at the Duke of Beaufort's request, called on us, and insisted on not leaving the house till he had seen Worcester safe off in the Oxford mail. I forgot to mention a little circumstance which happened on the day previous to Lord Worcester's departure for Badminton, which is the name of his father's country-seat. We were sitting near one of the windows together, when a man on the opposite side of the way attracted my notice. Surely methought, I must have seen that man before. He was standing quite still, and for several minutes I could not for the life of me catch a second glimpse of his face, which had been turned towards us for an instant. At last he seemed as though he were making for my door. "That is the man!" I abruptly exclaimed; "that is the madman!" I spoke from the sudden impulse of the moment, and regretted no less instantaneously, but nothing I could say or do had power to detain Lord Worcester, who immediately darted across the street, and inquired of the man what his business had been with me, and why he had presumed to enter my house? The man answered, that he had no business with me, and had never dreamed of entering my house. Worcester called him a d----d liar, and throwing his card at him, at the same time, asked him who he was, and where he came from? The man refused to satisfy this inquiry and fixed his eyes on Worcester with a vacant gaze. "You won't tell me your name then?" "No," said the man, at last, adding that he did not choose to have his name handed about in such company. Worcester remarked that he rather fancied no one would ever hear his name as a fighter; but, if he was ashamed of his name, and felt conscious that his rank was too low in life for him to meet in a duel, without disgracing himself as a gentleman, he was ready to turn into the next field with him, and set to work with their fists, in the way most suitable to a blackguard like him! The man declared that he was not a bruiser, and refused to stir. Worcester struck him with his stick, when the man put himself into an attitude of defence; but not at all scientifically. The fight lasted full twenty minutes. It took place in a public street in the broad face of day. I did not see the end of the contest, but Worcester, on his return, informed me that he had been victorious, and then retired to wash the blood from his hands and nose. The Honourable Berkeley Craven, who at all times can smell out a fight as often as such a thing occurs within ten miles of him, was present, I presume, at this mighty encounter, since he afterwards mentioned the circumstance to me, declaring that he knew Worcester's antagonist to be a young man of good family, who had twice made his escape from a mad-house.