"No--wouldn't tell--chaffed me--no end, but wouldn't go into particulars." "But could you find out whether it affected you or not?" "Oh, of course, I took that for granted. That was the point of the whole joke, you know. Louie's chaff consisted altogether of allusions to some mysterious plan, of the widow's, by which she would have full, ample, perfect, complete, and entire vengeance on me." "That's bad." "It is." "A widow's a dangerous thing." "Too true, my boy," said Jack, with a sigh; "nobody knows that better than I do." "I wonder you don't try to disarm her." "Disarm her?" "Yes--why don't you call on her?" "Well, confound it, I did call only a day or two ago, you know. The last two or three days I've been engaged." "Yes, but such an engagement will only make the widow more furious." "But, confound it, man, it's been simply impossible to do any thing else than what I have been doing." "I'll tell you what it is, Jack," said I, solemnly, "the widow's your chief danger. She'll ruin you. There's only one thing for you to do, and that is what I've already advised you to do, and Louie, too, for that matter. You must fly." "Oh, bosh!--how can I?" "Leave of absence--sell out--any thing." Jack shook his head, and gave a heavy sigh. CHAPTER XXXI. A FRIENDLY CALL.--PRELIMINARIES OF THE DUEL NEATLY ARRANGED.--A DAMP JOURNEY, AND DEPRESSED SPIRITS.--A SECLUDED SPOT.--DIFFICULTIES WHICH ATTEND A DUEL IN A CANADIAN SPRING.--A MASTERLY DECISION. --DEBATES ABOUT THE NICETIES OF THE CODE OF HONOR.--WHO SHALL HAVE THE FIRST SHOT, STRUGGLE FOR PRECEDENCE.--A VERY SINGULAR AND OBSTINATE DISPUTE.--I SAVE O'HALLORAN FROM DEATH BY RHEUMATISM. Before the close of the day a gentleman called on me from O'Halloran, whom I referred to Jack, and these two made arrangements for the duel. It was to take place in a certain locality, which I do not intend to mention, and which was no matter how many miles out of town. We left at an early hour, and the doctor accompanied us. Jack had sufficient foresight to fill the sleigh with all the refreshments that might be needed on such an occasion. We drove to O'Halloran's house, where we found his sleigh waiting, with himself and a friend all ready to start. They led the way, and we followed. It was a nasty time, the roads were terrible. They were neither one thing nor the other. There was nothing but a general mixture of ice heaps, slush, thawing snowdrifts, bare ground, and soft mud. Over this our progress was extremely slow. Added to this, the weather was abominable. It was warm, soft, slimy, and muggy. The atmosphere had changed into a universal drizzle, and was close and oppressive. At first O'Halloran's face was often turned back to hail us with some jovial remark, to which we responded in a similar manner; but after a time silence settled on the party, and the closeness, and the damp, and the slow progress, reduced us one and all to a general state of sulkiness.