"You have a daughter, I believe," said Eugene, in a voice that was broken by a tremor. "You may wish to send some word to her. Here is a pencil and tablets. Let me ask you to be brief." He flung the pencil and tablets upon the table. Beverly recoiled as though a serpent had stung him. "Eugene," he faltered, for the first time finding words, "you--you do not mean to murder me?" And his florid face grew ashy with abject terror. Eugene did not reply, but knocked twice upon the marble table with his clenched hand. Scarcely had the echo of the sound died away, when the door was once more opened, and two persons advanced to the table. The first was a tall, muscular man, with a phlegmatic face, light hair, and huge red whiskers. His blue frock-coat was buttoned to the throat, and he carried an oblong box in his hands. "Joanna's brother!" ejaculated Beverly. The second person was a dapper little gentleman, with small eyes, a hooked nose, and an enormous black moustache. He was dressed in black, with a gold chain on his breast, and a diamond pin in his faultless shirt bosom. "Major Barton!" ejaculated Beverly, bounding from his seat, for in Major Barton he recognized an old and intimate acquaintance. "Robert," said Eugene, turning to Joanna's brother, "what have you there?" "The dueling pistols," quietly responded Robert. "Have you and this gentleman's friend arranged the _preliminaries_?" "We have," interrupted the dapper Major; "distance, ten paces,--place, Weehawk, opposite the city,--time, right off." "This without consulting me!" cried Beverly, who at the mention of a duel, felt a hope lighten up in his heart, for coward as he was, he was also a capital shot. "Gentlemen, I beg to say,----" he drew his White Monk's robe over his heart, and assumed a grand air,--"gentlemen,----" The dapper little major glided to his side,-- "Bev., my boy, better be quiet. Eugene waited on me an hour ago and explained all the circumstances,--desired me to act as your friend. As I'd rather see you have a chance for your life in a duel, than to see you killed in such a house as this, like a dog, I consented. Bev., my boy, better be quiet." "If you don't wish to fight, say so," and the phlegmatic Robert stepped forward, eyeing Beverly with a look of settled ferocity, that was not altogether pleasant to see,--"if you decline the duel, just say so in the presence of your friend, Major Barton. Just say no." And Robert eyed Beverly from head to foot, as though it would afford him much pleasure to pitch him from the third story window. "I will fight," said Beverly, pale and red by turns. "Then I'll get your hat, and coat, and cloak," said the obliging major,--"they're in the next room. We must leave the house quietly, and there's a boat waiting for us, at the foot of the street, or the North River. We can cross to the Jersey shore, before morning breaks. It will be a nice little affair all among ourselves. By-the-bye, how about a surgeon?"