St. Leger was silent. Cary answered for him. “An old Irish quarrel, I assure you, sir. A matter of years' standing. In unlacing the senor's helmet, the evening that he was taken prisoner, I was unlucky enough to twitch his mustachios. You recollect the fact, of course, senor?” “Perfectly,” said the Spaniard; and then, half-amused and half-pleased, in spite of his bitter wrath, at Cary's quickness and delicacy in shielding Rose, he bowed, and-- “And it gives me much pleasure to find that he whom I trust to have the pleasure of killing tomorrow morning is a gentleman whose nice sense of honor renders him thoroughly worthy of the sword of a De Soto.” Cary bowed in return, while Sir Richard, who saw plainly enough that the excuse was feigned, shrugged his shoulders. “What weapons, senor?” asked Will again. “I should have preferred a horse and pistols,” said Don Guzman after a moment, half to himself, and in Spanish; “they make surer work of it than bodkins; but” (with a sigh and one of his smiles) “beggars must not be choosers.” “The best horse in my stable is at your service, senor,” said Sir Richard Grenville, instantly. “And in mine also, senor,” said Cary; “and I shall be happy to allow you a week to train him, if he does not answer at first to a Spanish hand.” “You forget in your courtesy, gentle sir, that the insult being with me, the time lies with me also. We wipe it off to-morrow morning with simple rapiers and daggers. Who is your second?” “Mr. Arthur St. Leger here, senor: who is yours?” The Spaniard felt himself alone in the world for one moment; and then answered with another of his smiles,-- “Your nation possesses the soul of honor. He who fights an Englishman needs no second.” “And he who fights among Englishmen will always find one,” said Sir Richard. “I am the fittest second for my guest.” “You only add one more obligation, illustrious cavalier, to a two-years' prodigality of favors, which I shall never be able to repay.” “But, Nephew Arthur,” said Grenville, “you cannot surely be second against your father's guest, and your own uncle.” “I cannot help it, sir; I am bound by an oath, as Will can tell you. I suppose you won't think it necessary to let me blood?” “You half deserve it, sirrah!” said Sir Richard, who was very angry: but the Don interposed quickly. “Heaven forbid, senors! We are no French duellists, who are mad enough to make four or six lives answer for the sins of two. This gentleman and I have quarrel enough between us, I suspect, to make a right bloody encounter.” “The dependence is good enough, sir,” said Cary, licking his sinful lips at the thought. “Very well. Rapiers and shirts at three tomorrow morning--Is that the bill of fare? Ask Sir Richard where, Atty? It is against punctilio now for me to speak to him till after I am killed.” “On the sands opposite. The tide will be out at three. And now, gallant gentlemen, let us join the bowlers.”