"Why, yes; though but a shoot of that good stock, transplanted to
Cumberland, and there sadly withered."

"'Tis no matter, sir," said he politely; "I shall be proud to cross
swords with you."

"Why, bless your heart!" I cried out, full of laughter at this
childish punctilio; "d'ye think I came to fight you?"

"If not, sir"--and he grew colder than ever--"you are going a cursed
roundabout way to avoid it."

Upon this, finding no other way out of it, I began my tale at once:
but hardly had come to the meeting of the two men on the bowling-
green, when he interrupts me politely----

"I think, Master Marvel, as yours is like to be a story of some
moment, I will send this fellow back to my lodgings. He's a long-
ear'd dog that I am saving from the gallows for so long as my
conscience allows me. The shower is done, I see; so if you know of
a retir'd spot, we will talk there more at our leisure."

He dismiss'd his lackey, and stroll'd off with me to the Trinity
Grove, where, walking up and down, I told him all I had heard and
seen the night before.

"And now," said I, "can you tell me if you have any such enemy as
this white-hair'd man, with the limping gait?"

He had come to a halt, sucking in his lips and seeming to reflect--