"Shaky," cried Mr. Smirke; "what d' ye mean by shultin' me? You 're no great shakes."
"There! go off, and get to bed!" said Mr. Bouncer. "I don't want to insult you. I 'm your second."
This sent off Mr. Smirke's thoughts in a fresh direction or train. "Shecond class! I always travel firsht. Tickets ready, gents! 'Timesh'! 'Shtandard'! 'Lustrated Noos'! 'Punsh'!—Yesh; just one more glash cold punsh. Thankee! Bousher old bird! fren' of my shoul, this goblet sip! Give me a lock of your hair, old fel'! I shall prishe it immenshely!" On which Mr. Bouncer got rid of him, and the little wicket in the Brazenface gates was then closed upon him and his friends.
On returning to Emngham's rooms, Mr. Bouncer found that Mr. Bulpit had drunk to drown dull care, or to give himself fictitious courage for the morning's encounter—like the man in the song, who tried "to keep his spirits up by pouring spirits down;" and he also was taken away, and seen safely to his rooms in "Skimmery." Then a consultation was held as to the programme of the duel. Effingham proposed the Port Meadow as the place, and seven o'clock as the time. The two men were to be taken there by their respective seconds, with two others to watch the proceedings and to give the word to fire. The pistols were to be loaded with paper pellets. The seconds were to express to their principals their sorrow that no doctor was in attendance, and their assurance that no time should be lost in conveying the wounded to the nearest surgeon. The two combatants being thus primed for the duel, and placed in position, the word to fire would be given. The probability was that each of them would fire in the air; but even if they did not, no harm would ensue.
