from his strength. It was an office any lord of the kingdom might have
been proud to hold.

Now, some four or five years after my induction into this honorable
office, there came to court news of a terrible duel fought down in
Suffolk, out of which only one of the four combatants had come
alive--two, rather, but one of them in a condition worse than death.
The first survivor was a son of Sir William Brandon, and the second
was a man called Sir Adam Judson. The story went that young Brandon
and his elder brother, both just home from the continental wars, had
met Judson at an Ipswich inn, where there had been considerable
gambling among them. Judson had won from the brothers a large sum of
money which they had brought home; for, notwithstanding their youth,
the elder being but twenty-six and the younger about twenty-four years
of age, they had gained great honor and considerable profit in wars,
especially the younger, whose name was Charles.

It is a little hard to fight for money and then to lose it by a single
spot upon the die, but such is the fate of him who plays, and a
philosopher will swallow his ill luck and take to fighting for more.
The Brandons could have done this easily enough, especially Charles,
who was an offhand philosopher, rather fond of a good-humored fight,
had it not been that in the course of play one evening the secret of
Judson's winning had been disclosed by a discovery that he cheated.
The Brandons waited until they were sure, and then trouble began,
which resulted in a duel on the second morning following.

This Judson was a Scotch gentleman of whom very little was known,
except that he was counted the most deadly and most cruel duelist of
the time. He was called the "Walking Death," and it is said took pride