Charles looked very stiff and very fierce as, clapping on his wig, he began: "A short while ago I perpetrated an indiscretion in mistaking Mr. Francis Vernon for a gentleman, for which I beg the pardon of everybody present. Mr. Vernon for some reason best known to himself saw fit to bribe my bookseller to insert in a volume I have just published twelve scurrilous lines reflecting upon the character of a young lady whom I--whom I----" "Admire," suggested our villain. "No, sir, respect." "Sir, your virtue should make us all blush," sneered Vernon, cold and contemptuous. "D---- n you and your blushes; blush deeper, then," shouted Charles, slinging the contents of a wineglass into Mr. Vernon's pallid face. There was silence for a moment until the honourable Mr. Harthe-Brusshe proclaimed---- "The affair should be settled at once." And this was the only remark that the Honourable gentleman uttered in the whole of the evening. "With all my heart," cried Charles. "Tony, you'll act for me?" Mr. Vernon had delicately wiped his face with a handkerchief of Mechlin lace. A single drop of the wine lingered above his left cheekbone. There, it was not unbecoming. "I shall be proud to walk with Mr. Lovely in a month's time," said our villain, "but for the present my honour is pledged to a lady." "Sure, you borrow on mighty small security, sir," said Charles. The lingering drop of wine that stained Mr. Vernon's cheek seemed to expand for a brief moment. "I have named my day," was all he answered. "Mr. Vernon is within his rights, Charles," said Mr. Golightly, "and moreover the weather will be finer next month and we can make up a jovial party." "'Tis hardly fair to poor Daish to fight in his rooms," said Blewforth. "Ripple would put his shutters up at once." "H---- take you all," cried Charles, in an access of fury, as he sprang to strike Vernon. The latter stepped back and with a well-aimed blow sent Charles flying backwards over two chairs. "'Slife, Charles," said Mr. Golightly very stiffly. "Your conduct is d----d irregular, Sir." "Most improper," said Mr. Chalkley. "Devilish unrestrained," said little Peter Wingfield. "Charles was two bottles ahead of us, gentlemen," said Blewforth who held a broad mind in a broad body. Our hero was still lying where Vernon had sent him among cards and broken glass. "D---- n you all," cried Clare. "Charles is worth the rest of you puppies in red and blue coats put together, and by G----, Mr. Vernon, he shall kill you for that blow." Everybody was so surprized to hear Mr. Anthony Clare, cool and placid Tony Clare, break out like this that a wave of embarrassment swept over the room. One by one they hurried from the scene of such an irregular quarrel. It was very entertaining to see them march out so stiff and straight, with nutshells crackling underneath their feet. _Chapter the Twenty-sixth_ AND THE DREGS OF THE SAME