had passed. Glanville set his teeth, and clenched his hand firmly; and
then, as if his anger was at once appeased, he suddenly changed the
subject and tone of our conversation. He spoke with great cheerfulness
and humour, on the various topics of the day; touched upon politics;
laughed at Lord Guloseton, and seemed as indifferent and unconscious of
the event of the morrow as my peculiar constitution would have rendered
myself.

When I rose to depart, for I had too great an interest in him to feel
much for the subjects he conversed on, he said, "I shall write one line
to my mother, and another to my poor sister; you will deliver them if I
fall, for I have sworn that one of us shall not quit the ground alive. I
shall be all impatience to know the hour you will arrange with Tyrrell's
second. God bless you, and farewell for the present."




CHAPTER LX.

Charge, Chester, charge!
--Marmion.

Though this was one of the first mercantile transactions
of my life, I had no doubt about acquitting myself with
reputation.
--Vicar of Wakefield.

The next morning I was at breakfast, when a packet was brought me from
Tyrrell; it contained a sealed letter to Glanville, and a brief note to