"If there was anything to disagree about, you may be sure that I'd do it in the interest of Mr. Mathews, sir," he said; "but I give you my word that there's nothing to allow any side the smallest advantage. And now, sir, though it seems a pity to disturb the meditations of your friend, I am afraid that the time has come for you to take that step. I hope to Hivins that he won't think it in bad taste. But you're spared the trouble: he is coming to us."
Mr. Long was walking quickly down the meadow, and when still a few paces away, he raised his hat to Major O'Teague, but ignored Mathews, who was standing some yards off.
"Major O'Teague," he said, "I have to inform you that I have been giving the question of the projected duel my earnest thought, and the conclusion that I have come to is that I am not called on to fight Mr. Mathews."
The words, spoken deliberately, but without any particular emphasis, startled Dick quite as much as they did Major O'Teague.
"You're a coward, sir, and I will force you to fight me!" shouted Mathews.
Dick took a couple of steps to the side of Mr. Long, and at the same instant O'Teague took three to the side of Mathews.
"Hold your tongue, sir; leave me to manage this affair," said Major O'Teague to his principal.
"I'm afraid, sir," he said in a frigid tone and with a distinctly English accent, which sounded very much more formal than the soft Irish slur which came so easily to him--"I'm afraid that there's some misunderstanding between us; but a little explanation will, I daresay, tend to smooth away matters, and lead to such an amicable settlement that the fight will take place as originally intended. Pray, sir, state your reasons for saying that you're not called on to consummate the jewel. Come, sir, your reasons."
"My reasons? This is one of them," said Mr. Long, pointing toward the bramble hedge beside the lane.
So intent had every one been over the technicalities of the duel, none had noticed a little figure standing there waiting for a signal--the figure of a little boy. When Mr. Long raised his arm and pointed toward him, he began to run to the group, and now all eyes were turned upon him. He was a pretty child of perhaps eight or nine years of age, and while he ran he kept calling out: