England -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Male friendship -- Fiction; Men -- Societies and clubs -- Fiction
‘It must be so,’ said Mr. Winkle, letting the coat fall from his hands.
‘I took too much wine after dinner, and have a very vague recollection
of walking about the streets, and smoking a cigar afterwards. The fact
is, I was very drunk;--I must have changed my coat--gone somewhere--and
insulted somebody--I have no doubt of it; and this message is the
terrible consequence.’ Saying which, Mr. Winkle retraced his steps in
the direction of the coffee-room, with the gloomy and dreadful resolve
of accepting the challenge of the warlike Doctor Slammer, and abiding by
the worst consequences that might ensue.
To this determination Mr. Winkle was urged by a variety of
considerations, the first of which was his reputation with the club. He
had always been looked up to as a high authority on all matters of
amusement and dexterity, whether offensive, defensive, or inoffensive;
and if, on this very first occasion of being put to the test, he shrunk
back from the trial, beneath his leader’s eye, his name and standing
were lost for ever. Besides, he remembered to have heard it frequently
surmised by the uninitiated in such matters that by an understood
arrangement between the seconds, the pistols were seldom loaded with
ball; and, furthermore, he reflected that if he applied to Mr. Snodgrass
to act as his second, and depicted the danger in glowing terms, that
gentleman might possibly communicate the intelligence to Mr. Pickwick,
who would certainly lose no time in transmitting it to the local
authorities, and thus prevent the killing or maiming of his follower.
Such were his thoughts when he returned to the coffee-room, and
intimated his intention of accepting the doctor’s challenge.
‘Will you refer me to a friend, to arrange the time and place of
meeting?’ said the officer.
‘Quite unnecessary,’ replied Mr. Winkle; ‘name them to me, and I can
procure the attendance of a friend afterwards.’
‘Shall we say--sunset this evening?’ inquired the officer, in a careless
tone.
‘Very good,’ replied Mr. Winkle, thinking in his heart it was very bad.
‘You know Fort Pitt?’
‘Yes; I saw it yesterday.’
‘If you will take the trouble to turn into the field which borders the
trench, take the foot-path to the left when you arrive at an angle of
the fortification, and keep straight on, till you see me, I will precede
you to a secluded place, where the affair can be conducted without fear
of interruption.’
‘Fear of interruption!’ thought Mr. Winkle.
‘Nothing more to arrange, I think,’ said the officer.
‘I am not aware of anything more,’ replied Mr. Winkle. ‘Good-morning.’
‘Good-morning;’ and the officer whistled a lively air as he strode away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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