figs, and other dried fruit, chatted familiarly with the grocer, and
tarried so long, that at last he began to suspect they must have some
motive. All at once, however, they disagreed on some slight
matter--Bloundel could not tell what, nor, perhaps, could the
disputants, even if their quarrel was not preconcerted--high words
arose, and in another moment, swords were drawn, and furious passes
exchanged. The grocer called to his eldest son, a stout youth of
nineteen, and to Leonard Holt, to separate them. The apprentice seized
his cudgel--no apprentice in those days was without one--and rushed
towards the combatants, but before he could interfere, the fray was
ended. One of them had received a thrust through the sword arm, and his
blade dropping, his antagonist declared himself satisfied, and with a
grave salute walked off. The wounded man wrapped a lace handkerchief
round his arm, but immediately afterwards complained of great faintness.
Pitying his condition, and suspecting no harm, the grocer led him into
an inner room, where restoratives were offered by Mrs. Bloundel and her
daughter Amabel, both of whom had been alarmed by the noise of the
conflict. In a short time, the wounded man was so far recovered as to be
able to converse with his assistants, especially the younger one; and
the grocer having returned to the shop, his discourse became so very
animated and tender, that Mrs. Bloundel deemed it prudent to give her
daughter a hint to retire. Amabel reluctantly obeyed, for the young
stranger was so handsome, so richly dressed, had such a captivating
manner, and so distinguished an air, that she was strongly prepossessed
in his favour. A second look from her mother, however, caused her to
disappear, nor did she return. After waiting with suppressed anxiety for
some time, the young gallant departed, overwhelming the good dame with
his thanks, and entreating permission to call again. This was
peremptorily refused, but, notwithstanding the interdiction, he came on
the following day. The grocer chanced to be out at the time, and the