MR. O'LEARY had scarcely concluded the narrative of his second adventure, when the grey light of the breaking day was seen faintly struggling through the half-closed curtains, and apprising us of the lateness of the hour.

"I think we shall just have time for one finishing flask of Chambertin," said O'Leary, as he emptied the bottle into his glass.

"I forbid the bans, for one," cried Trevanion. "We have all had wine enough, considering what we have before us this morning; and besides, you are not aware it is now past four o'clock. So garçon-garçon, there how soundly the poor fellow sleeps let us have some coffee, and then inquire if a carriage is in waiting at the corner of the Rue Vivienne."

The coffee made its appearance, very much, as it seemed, to Mr. O'Leary's chagrin, who, however, solaced himself by sundry petit venes, to correct the coldness of the wine he had drank, and at length recovered his good humour.

"Do you know, now," said he, after a short pause, in which we had all kept silence, "I think what we are about to do is the very ugliest way of finishing a pleasant evening. For my own part, I like the wind-up we used to have in Old Trinity' formerly; when, after wringing off half a dozen knockers, breaking the lamps at the post-office, and getting over the fire engines of Werburgh's parish, we beat a few watchmen, and went peaceably to bed."

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Well, not being an Irishman," said Trevanion, "I'm half disposed to think that even our present purpose is nearly as favourable to life and limb; but here comes my servant. Well, John, is all arranged, and the carriage ready?" Having ascertained that the carriage was in waiting, and that the small box -brass-bound and Bramah-lockedreposed within, we paid our bill and departed. A cold, raw, misty-looking morning, with masses of dark louring clouds overhead, and channels of dark and murky water beneath, were the pleasant prospects which met us, as we issued forth from the Café. The lamps, which hung suspended midway across the street, (we speak of some years since,) creaked, with a low and plaintive sound, as they swung backwards and forwards in the wind. Not VOL. XIII,

a footstep was heard in the streetnothing but the heavy patter of the rain as it fell ceaselessly upon the broad pavement. It was, indeed, a most depressing and dispiriting accompaniment to our intended excursion ; and even O'Leary, who seemed to have but slight sympathy with external influences, felt it, for he spoke but little, and was scarcely ten minutes in the carriage till he was sound asleep. This was, I confess, a great relief to me; for, however impressed I was, and to this hour am, with the many sterling qualities of my poor friend, yet I acknowledge that this was not precisely the time I should have cared for their exercise, and would have much preferred the companionship of a different order of person, even though less long acquainted with him. Trevanion was, of all others, the most suitable for this purpose; and I felt no embarrassment in opening my mind freely to him upon subjects which, but twenty-four hours previous, I could not have imparted to a brother.

There is no such unlocker of the secrets of the heart as the possibly near approach of death. Indeed, I question if a great deal of the bitterness the thought of it inspires does not depend upon that very circumstance. The reflection that the long-treasured mystery of our lives (and who is there without some such ?) is about to become known, and the secret of our inmost heart laid bare, is in itself depressing. Not one kind word, nor one remembrancing adieu, to those we are to leave for ever, can be spoken or written without calling up its own story of half-forgotten griefs; or, still worse, at such a moment, of happinesses never again to be partaken of.

"I cannot explain why," said I to Trevanion, "but although it has unfortunately been pretty often my lot to have gone out on occasions like this, both as principal and friend, yet never before did I feel so completely depressed and low-spirited-and never, in fact, did so many thoughts of regret arise before me for much of the past, and sorrow for the chance of abandoning the future"

"I can understand," said Trevanion, interrupting-"I have heard of your prospects in the Callonby family; and certainly, with such hopes, I can well

3 A

'Guy's pretensions at an end! For heaven's sake, tell me all you know of this affair for up to this moment I am in utter ignorance of every thing regarding his position among the Callonby family.'

Unfortunately," replied Trevanion, "I know but little, but still that little is authentic-Guy himself having imparted the secret to a very intimate friend of mine. It appears, then, that your cousin, having heard that the Callonbys had been very civil to you in Ireland, and made all manner of advances to you-had done so under the impression that you were the other nephew of Sir Guy, and consequently the heir of his large fortune-that is, Guy himself and that they had never discovered the mistake during the time they resided in Ireland, when they not only permitted, but even encouraged the closest intimacy between you and Lady Jane. Is so far true?"

I have long suspected it. Indeed, in no other way can I account for the reception I met with from the Callonbys. But is it possible that Lady Jane could have lent herself to any thing so unworthy"—

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ner.

Pray, hear me out," said Trevanion, who was evidently struck by the despondency of my voice and man"Guy having heard of their mistake, and auguring well to himself from this evidence of their disposition, 'no sooner heard of their arrival in Paris, than he came over here and got introduced to them. From that time he scarcely ever left their house, except to accompany them into society, or to the theatres. It is said that with Lady Jane he made no progress. Her manner, at the beginning cold and formal, became daily more so; until, at last, he was half disposed to abandon the pursuit-in which, by the bye, he has since confessed, monied views entered more than any affection for the lady-when the thought struck him to benefit by what he supposed at first to be the great bar to his success. He suddenly pretended to be only desirous of intimacy with Lady Jane, from having heard so much of her from youaffected to be greatly in your confidence and, in fact, assumed the cha

"And was it thus he succeeded ?" I broke in.

""Twas thus he endeavoured to succeed," said Trevanion.

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"Ah, with what success I but too well know," said I. My uncle himself showed me a letter from Guy, in which he absolutely speaks of the affair as settled, and talks of Lady Jane as about to be his wife."

"That may be all quite true; but a little consideration of Guy's tactics will show what he intended; for I find that he induced your uncle, by some representations of his, to make the most handsome proposals with regard to the marriage, to the Callonbys; and that, to make the story short, nothing but the decided refusal of Lady Jane, who at length saw through his entire game, prevented the match."

"And then she did refuse him," said I, with ill-repressed exultation.

"Of that there can be no doubt; for independently of all the gossip and quizzing upon the subject, to which Guy was exposed in the coteries, he made little secret of it himself-openly avowing that he did not consider a repulse a defeat, and that he resolved to sustain the siege as vigorously as ever."

However interested I felt in all Trevanion was telling me, I could not help falling into a train of thinking on my first acquaintance with the Callonbys. There are, perhaps, but few things more humiliating than the knowledge that any attention or consideration we have met with, has been paid us in mistake for another; and in the very proportion that they were prized before, are they detested when the truth is known to us.

To all the depressing influences these thoughts suggested, came the healing balm, that Lady Jane was true to me that she, at least, however others might be biassed by worldly considerations that she cared for me-for myself alone. My reader (alas! for my character for judgment) knows upon how little I founded the conviction; but I have often, in these Confessions, avowed my failing, par excellence, to be a great taste for self-deception; and here was a capital occasion for its indulgence.

"We shall have abundant time to discuss all this later on," said Trevanion, laying his hand upon my

shoulder, to rouse my wandering at tention-" for now, I perceive, we have only eight minutes to spare."

As he spoke, a dragoon officer, in an undress, rode up to the window of the carriage, and, looking steadily at our party for a few seconds, asked if we were "Messieurs les Anglais;" and, almost without waiting for reply, added, "You had better not go any farther in your carriage, for the next turn of the road will bring you in sight of the village."

We accordingly stopped the driver, and having with some difficulty aroused O'Leary, got out upon the road. The militaire here gave his horse to a groom, and proceeded to guide us through a corn-field by a narrow path, with whose windings and crossings he appeared quite conversant. Weat length reached the brow of a little hill, from which an

extended view of the country lay before us, showing the Seine winding its tranquil course between the richly tilled fields, dotted with many a pretty cottage. Turning abruptly from this point, our guide led us, by a narrow and steep path, into a little glen, planted with poplars and willows. A small stream ran through this, and by the

noise we soon detected that a mill was not far distant, which another turning brought us at once in front of.

And here I cannot help dwelling upon the "tableau" which met our view. In the porch of the little rural mill sat two gentlemen, one of whom I immediately recognised as the person who had waited upon me, and the other I rightly conjectured to be my adversary. Before them stood a small table, covered with a spotted napkin, upon which a breakfast equipage was spread a most inviting melon and a long, slender-necked bottle, reposing in a little ice-pail, forming part of the "materiel." My opponent was coolly enjoying his cigar—a half-finished cup of coffee lay beside him—his friend was occupied in examining the "caps" of the duelling pistols, which were placed upon a chair. No sooner had we turned the angle which brought us in view, than they both rose, and taking off their hats with much courtesy, bade us good morning.

May I offer you a cup of coffee?" said Monsieur Devigny to me, as I came up, at the same time filling it out, and pushing over a little flask of Cogniac towards me.

A look from Trevanion decided my acceptance of the proffered civility, and I seated myself in the chair beside

the baron. Trevanion meanwhile had engaged my adversary in conversation along with the stranger, who had been our guide, leaving O'Leary alone unoccupied, which, however, he did not long remain; for, although uninvited by the others, he seized a knife and fork, and commenced a vigorous attack upon a partridge pie near him; and, with equal absence of ceremony, uncorked the champagne and filled out a foaming goblet, nearly one-third of the whole bottle, adding

"I think, Mr. Lorrequer, there's nothing like showing them that we are just as cool and unconcerned as themselves."

the party, a happier mode of conIf I might judge from the looks of vincing them of our "free-and-easy" feelings could not possibly have been discovered. this proceeding might have caused me, From any mortification I was speedily relieved by Trevanion calling O'Leary to one side, while he explained to him that he must nominally act as second on the ground, as Trevanion, being a resident in Paris, might become liable to a prosecution, should any thing serious arise, while O'Leary, as a mere passer through, and avoid all trouble. could cross the frontier into Germany,

O'Leary at once acceded-perhaps the more readily because he expected to be allowed to return to his breakfast-but in this he soon found himself mistaken, for the whole party now rose, and, preceded by the baron, followed the course of the little stream.

After about five minutes' walking, we found ourselves at the outlet of the glen, which was formed by a large stone quarry, making a species of amphitheatre, with lofty walls of rugged granite, rising thirty or forty feet on either side of us. The ground was smooth and level as a boarded floor, and certainly to amateurs in these sort of matters, presented a most perfect spot for a "meeting."

The stranger who had just joined us, could not help remarking our looks of satisfaction at the choice of ground, and observed to me—

"This is not the first affair that this

little spot has witnessed; and the moulinet of St. Cloud is, I think, the very best "meet" about Paris.

Trevanion who, during these few minutes, had been engaged with Devigny, now drew me aside.

Well, Lorrequer, have you any. recollection now of having seen your

opponent before? or can you make a guess at the source of all this?"

"Never till this instant," said I, "have I beheld him,” as I looked towards the tall, stoutly-built figure of my adversary, who was very leisurely detaching a cordon from his tightly fitting frock, doubtless to prevent its attracting my aim.

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Well, never mind, I shall manage every thing properly. What can you do with the small sword, for they have rapiers at the mill ?"

Nothing whatever fenced since I was a boy."

from your looks, Mr. Trevanion. Isn't it a thousand pities I can't speak French?” "What say you, then, to twelve paces? Fire together, and two shots each, if the first fire be inconclusive," said Trevanion.

N'importe-then we'll fight at a barriere. I know they're not prepared for that from Englishmen; so just step on one side now, and leave me to talk it over."

As the limited nature of the ground did not permit me to retire to a distance, I became involuntarily aware of a dialogue, which even the seriousness of the moment could scarcely keep me from laughing at outright.

It was necessary, for the sake of avoiding any possible legal difficulty in the result, that O'Leary should give his assent to every step of the arrangement; and, being totally ignorant of French, Trevanion had not only to translate for him, but also to render in reply O'Leary's own comments or objections to the propositions of the others.

"Then it is agreed-we fight at a barriere," said the Captain Devigny. "What's that, Trevanion ?" "We have agreed to place them at a barriere," replied Trevanion.

"That's strange," muttered O'Leary to himself, who, knowing that the word meant a "turnpike," never supposed it had any other signification.

"Vingt quatre pas, n'est pas ?" said Devigny.

"Too far," interposed Trevanion. "What does he say now?" asked O'Leary.

"Twenty-four paces for the dis

tance."

This, which is essentially a French' invention in duelling, was perfectly new to me, but by no means so to Trevanion, who was fully aware of the immense consequence of not giving even a momentary opportunity for aim to my antagonist; and in this mode of firing the most practical and deadly shot is liable to err-particularly if the signal be given quickly.

While Trevanion and the Captain were measuring out the ground, a little circumstance which was enacted near me was certainly not over calculated to strengthen my nerve. The stranger who had led us to the ground had begun to examine the pistols, and finding that one of them was loaded, turned towards my adversary, saying, "Dr. Haultpeine, you have forgotten to draw the charge. Come, let us see what vein you are in." At the same time, drawing off his large cavalry glove, he handed the pistol to his friend.

"A double Napoleon you don't hit the thumb."

Done," said the other, adjusting the weapon in his hand.

The action was scarcely performed, when the better flung the glove into the air with all his force. My opponent raised his pistol, waited for an instant, till the glove, having attained its greatest height, turned to fall again. Then clack went the trigger-the glove turned round and round half-a-dozen times, and fell about twenty yards off, and the thumb was found cut clearly off at the juncture with the hand.

This which did not occupy half as long as I have spent in recounting it— was certainly a pleasant introduction to standing at fifteen yards from the

principal actor; and I should doubtless have felt it in all its force, had not my attention been drawn off by the ludicrous expression of grief in O'Leary's countenance, who evidently regarded me as already defunct.

"Now, Lorrequer, we are ready," said Trevanion, coming forward; and then, lowering his voice, added, "All is in your favour; I have now the 'word,' which I shall give the moment you halt. So turn and fire at once: be sure not to go too far round in the turn--that is the invariable error in this mode of firing; only no hurry be calm."

"Now, messieurs," said Devigny, as he approached with his friend leaning upon his arm, and placed him in the spot allotted to him. Trevanion then took my arm, and placed me back to back to my antagonist. As I took up my ground, it so chanced that admy versary's spur slightly grazed me, upon which he immediately turned round, and, with the most engaging smile, begged a "thousand pardons," and hoped I was not hurt.

O'Leary, who saw the incident, and guessed the action aright, called out"Oh, the cold-blooded villian; the devil a chance for you, Mr. Lorrequer." "Messieurs, your pistols," said Le Capitaine Grande, who, as he handed the weapons, and repeated once more the conditions of the combat, gave the word to march.

I now walked slowly forward to the place marked out by the stone; but it seemed that I must have been in advance of my opponent, for I remember some seconds elapsed before Trevanion coughed slightly, and then with a clear full voice called out " Une," "Deux." I had scarcely turned myself half round, when my right arm was suddenly lifted up, as if by a galvanic shock. My pistol jerked upwards, and exploded the same moment, and then dropped powerlessly from my hand, which I now felt was covered with warm blood from a wound near the elbow. From the acute but momentary pang this gave me, my attention was soon called off; for scarcely had my arm been struck, when a loud, clattering noise to my left induced me to turn, and there, to my astonishment, I saw my friend O'Leary about twelve feet from the ground, hanging on by some ash twigs that grew from the clefts of the granite. Fragments of broken rock were falling around him, and his own position momentarily threatened a downfall. He was scream

ing with all his might; but what he said was entirely lost in the shouts of laughter of Trevanion and the Frenchmen, who could scarcely stand with the immoderate exuberance of their mirth. I had not time to run to his aidwhich, although wounded, I should have done-when the branch he clung to slowly yielded with his weight, and the round, plump figure of my poor friend rolled over the little cleft of rock, and, after a few faint struggles, came tumbling heavily down, and at last lay peaceably in the deep heather at the bottom-his cries the whole time being loud enough to rise even above the vociferous laughter of the others.

I now ran forward, as did Trevanion, when O'Leary, turning his eyes towards me, said, in the most piteous manner

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Mr. Lorrequer, I forgive you— here is my hand-bad luck to their French way of fighting, that's all-it's only good for killing one's friend. I thought I was safe up there, come what might."

My dear O'Leary," said I, in an agony, which prevented my minding the laughing faces around me, "surely you don't mean to say that I have wounded you ?”

"No, dear, not wounded, only killed me outright-through the brain it must be, from the torture I'm suffering."

The shout with which this speech was received, sufficiently aroused me ; while Trevanion, with a voice nearly choked with laughter, said

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Why, Lorrequer, did you not see that your pistol in setting, threw your ball high up on the quarry; fortunately, however, about a foot and a half above Mr. O'Leary's head, whose most serious wounds are his scratched hands and bruised bones from his tumble."

This explanation, which was perfectly satisfactory to me, was by no means so consoling to poor O'Leary, who lay quite unconscious to all around, moaning in the most melancholy manner. Some of the blood, which continued to flow fast from my wound, having dropped upon his face, roused him a little but only to increase his lamentation for his own destiny, which he believed was fast accomplishing.

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Through the skull-clean through the skull-and preserving my senses to the last! Mr. Lorrequer, stoop down

it is a dying man asks you—don't refuse me a last request. There's neither luck nor grace, honor nor glory in such a way of fighting-so just