Lord Martin broke off the conversation somewhat abruptly, and began to
reflect with himself upon what had passed. He had hitherto contrived, by
some means or other, though he dealt very largely in challenges, never to
have come to actual battle. But he had too much reason to think, that if
he made sir William his messenger, he should not be able with any degree
of honour to contrive an evasion. "It is true," said he, "I am in a most
confounded passion, but a wise general never proceeds to action without
having first deliberated. Zounds, blood and fire! would I could put an end
to the existence of so presumptuous a villain! But then it must be
considered that Mr. Prettyman is six foot high, and I am not five. He is
as athletic as Ajax, but to me nature has been unfavourable. It is true I
understand cart and terce, parry and thrust, but I have heard that
Prettyman studied under Olivier. Many a man has outlived the passage of a
bullet, or the thrust of a sword through him. But my constitution is so
delicate! Curse blast it, death and the devil, I do not know what to do."
Sir William, as soon as he had left lord Martin, repaired to the lodgings
of Mr. Prettyman. After a short general conversation, he began, "My dear
friend, here has happened the unluckiest thing in nature. You have made
some advances, you know, to the charming Delia." "True," cried Prettyman,
"I have bestowed upon her a few condescending glances.
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