I believe indeed he never received a
wound, but I think I remember to have heard of one duel he fought, in
which his antagonist came off with his life." "Ah, _diable
l'emporte!_ That will not do neither. These bullets are the aukwardest
things in the world. Do you think you could not prevail with his Lordship
to use only powder?" "Powder," cried sir William, "that is an excellent
jest. My lord always loads with six small slugs." "Six slugs! ah the
bloody minded villain! It is confounded hard that a gentleman cannot pass
through life, without being _degoute_ with these unpolished Vandals.
_Ah, mon cher ami_, I will put the affair entirely into your hands:
do, _pour i'amour de Dieu_, bring me out of this scrape as well as
you can." "Well my dear Prettyman, I will exert myself on your account;
but, upon my soul, I had rather have an affair with half a regiment of
commissioned officers fresh imported from America."
Sir William Twyford, having thus brought the affair to some degree of
forwardness, now waited on his lordship. "My dear lord Martin," said he,
"what have you resolved upon? The affair is briefly thus--you must either
give up Delia, or fight Mr. Prettyman." "Give up Delia!" exclaimed the
little lord; "by all that is sacred I will sooner spill the last drop of
my blood. But," added he, "what necessity is there for the alternative you
propose? True, I fear no man.
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