Then the seconds were to interfere, and declare that outraged honour was satisfied; and Messrs. Smirke and Bulpit were to be led away from the Port Meadow, to be thoroughly laughed at for having been victimised, and with a caution to behave themselves better for the future, especially in the matter of shying their supper in each other's faces.
Little Mr. Bouncer was in favour of Shotover Hill for the place of meeting, not only from its appropriate name, but also from its being a more retired spot; but, as they came to discuss the matter, they found that there were numerous obstacles in the way of successfully carrying out their plan, either at the Port Meadow or Shotover Hill, not only from the Police, and the Proctor and his "bull-dogs," but also from the circumstance that the morrow would be the last morning of the Term, and, consequently, that not many hours would be at their disposal. Very reluctantly, therefore, the programme of the duel was abandoned, and a milder form of bringing the two quarrellers to their senses was determined upon. This decision was ultimately arrived at very much to the sorrow of little Mr. Bouncer, who had anticipated much amusement from the mock duel, and, as he snatched a brief sleep on Effingham's sofa, he dreamed that he and Mr. Smirke were posted on the top of Shotover Hill, firing with a heavy piece of ordnance, at Mr. Bulpit and Efingham, who were posted far away on the towing-path on the other side of the river, just where the Isis makes the bend towards Ifley. In his dream, Mr. Bouncer saw the well-known spot where he had so often boated—the fringe of willows on the bank—the flat stretch of meadows, and the rising ground beyond, with its trees, hedgerows, and scattered houses.
