“Well! what's the matter with you? you look
grave!” said White, gayly, as he entered the room of
Glendenning.

“Do I? That's strange; but the result of your embassy
will enliven me.”

“Ah! if you are grave before, you'll not be more
cheerful after hearing it.”

“Let us have it, however.”

“Glendenning, you must arouse yourself and act like
a man. If I feign gayety, it is to hide serious

[figure description] Page 022.[end figure description]

reflections. Keep cool. Sit down: I can't talk to any one
walking backward and forward in that way.”

“Go on,” said Glendenning, gloomily, folding his
arms.

“I have breakfasted with Colonel Nicholson. He's
going to call a Court of Inquiry for the investigation of
our affair with Lennox.”

“Well, let him!” said Glendenning; “I'll stand it.”

“It cannot but be unfavourable to us.”

“The I'll resign my commission.”

“I would call him out, if I could, myself,” said White,
“but he has too much of what the world would call
right on his side to meet me, and I must not subject
myself to another refusal. The story I told him, but
he grew rather yellow than otherwise under it, and said
it deepened the shade of the affair. It certainly deepened
his. He's an ass—but, egad, he's got us in his
power, and very coldly assured me the affair should not
stop here.”

“Should not?”

“Should not!”

“I see the man's object,” said Glendenning.

“He wishes to drive you to another meeting with
Lennox—but he does not, of course, say so. He held
over me, like a birch over a naughty schoolboy, his
`Court of Inquiry.' The `Court of Inquiry' is his
nominal object. He talked of nothing but `a blow,'
and the `disgrace of the regiment,' his own mighty self,
and a `Court of Inquiry.' ”

“But were I to meet Frank Lennox again, it could
only be with the determination either to kill or be
killed.”

“Of course.”

“But the man must suppose me insane—a ruffian—a
dupe—a fool.”

White was silent.

“I had rather be broken on the wheel—rather die on
the scaffold—rather feel the finger of every officer in
the regiment pointed at me, and hear nothing but yells
and hisses as I walk through the world, than hurt a
hair of Frank Lennox's head, or wound one heart in
that family. I would blow my brains out first.”

White was silent.

[figure description] Page 023.[end figure description]

“I will go to Nicholson myself.”

“You shall not.”

“I will write him this moment.”

“No. Be cool—you are beside yourself. Trust all
to me.”

“I am not beside myself. I am cool, calm, and master
of myself. I can speak to him truths that will scorch
his soul, and make his coward, malignant, shuffling heart
quail in his breast. I can go to him as calm as—as—”

“As you are to me,” said White, coldly, glancing at
the ashy, compressed lips, the white cheeks, the eyes
glistening with fury, and the drops of perspiration that
stood upon his forehead.

“No, Glendenning, no more speaking, no more interviews,
no more humiliation! You cannot touch his
heart or convince his reason. He cringes to his superiors,
but repays himself by trampling on all beneath
him. You he hates beyond my worst apprehensions.
You have drawn it on yourself wilfully—recklessly. He
is a curious—a remarkable character. He will never
forget—never forgive. The luscious triumph now in
his hands—oh, he would not forego it for his commission,
which, in my opinion, he stands a fair chance of
losing before we've done with him. Don't go to him.
Believe me, he will only insult you, as he has done
me.”

“I'll take him by the throat on the parade ground.”

“You will be cashiered.”

“Then I will throw up my commission—leave the
service and the country.”

“Pardon me, Captain Glendenning,” said White, firmly
and gravely; “you will not do any such thing; you
must not—you shall not!”

“Shall not?”

“Shall not, because you cannot as a man, an officer,
a gentleman, a friend.”

“And why not?”

“Because you will not adopt any measure contrary
to the advice and demand of your friends, and which, in
staining your own honour, must compromise theirs.”

“The demand, Captain White?”

“The demand, Captain Glendenning. Be cool and
hear me. Your character as a gentleman, and your

[figure description] Page 024.[end figure description]

whole prospects in life, depend upon your conduct now.
Had you resigned your commission before learning the
sentiments of your colonel, it would have been a different
thing. This you did not do. Were you to do so
now, it would be received as a proof of your desire to
avoid another meeting with Lieutenant Lennox.”

“You take upon yourself the character of an adviser,”
said Glendenning; “yet you advise nothing.”

“I can advise nothing,” said White, “because there
is no choice. You have but one thing to do.”

“And that is to—”

“Call out Lenox again instantly.”

Glendenning fixed his eyes on him without saying
anything.

“You are in the lion's den—in the lion's jaws!” continued
White. “Stir, and you are gone. Let me rescue
you from this dilemma. It is like performing a surgical
operation; it's a horrid thing; the patient shrinks
under it. But it's necessary. A moment's pain, the
leg is off! and the patient is well and happy again.”

“I understand you,” said Glendenning, “but I will
never consent: never—never! Perish my commission!
perish my name! perish the name of regiment
and my country! perish this black world and all
the friends that walk on it, rather than take one step in
the bloody path you point to!”

“Well, well!” said White, soothingly, as one would
speak to an affrighted horse. “So! so! so! so! let it
be for the present. There is no immediate hurry—to-morrow—
the next day. I'll see you again before long.
In the mean time, when you're cooller, think it over like
a man.”

He took his leave, really sorry for his friend, but determined
to make all the necessary arrangements for a
sudden departure, including those requisite for leave of
absence. He sent the assistant surgeon of the regiment
to see him, that he might give a certificate and put him
on the sick list, as he really was not in a fit state to go
out. By the next day he had everything arranged, and
waited only the moment, which he was pretty sure
would speedily arrive, when Glendenning's light and
impressionable mind would change, and he might get
him off at once; for, whatever happened or might

[figure description] Page 025.[end figure description]

happen, Captain White was determined not to suffer any
stain to rest on his own character as a gentleman, and
that, if the duel were considered prematurely terminated,
it should be repeated. To the cold-blooded selfishness
of this determination he was entirely blind.
Looking on duelling as a necessary and proper institution,
he took it, of course, with all its consequences.

“Poor fellow,” thought he; “it comes hard. It is like
having an old tooth out, but, once over, he won't mind
it.”

Thus bent in bringing about an encounter, which
could scarcely fail to terminate in the death of one, if
not two human beings, he put not a whit less zest in
each petty enjoyment and studied luxury of his life.