"I am sorry to inform you that unexpected events will prevent my friend Lieutenant Hargrave from giving you the meeting proposed for this morning. I have not time to explain this matter farther; but have only to add, that you will hear either from him or me in a few days, and that I am,
"White feather! Charles," said Mr. Driesen. "White feather, no doubt of it! Well, you have done with the matter. If the fellow comes in your way again, horsewhip him, that's all; but don't suffer yourself to be tempted to meet him any more. Sometimes these cowardly fellows, after hanging back for a time, screw themselves up to behave like gentlemen; but you are not to be trifled with by such a scoundrel. You have kept your engagement, and been to your time, and that's quite enough. Hark you, my man," he continued, turning to the boy, "what did they give you for bringing this note?"
"They gave me a shilling, sir," said the boy.
"Give it me," said Mr. Driesen. "There's half a crown for you instead. Now I want you to do two things. If ever you meet that gentleman again, tell him it would not pass current, and so you had the broad arrow stamped upon it; and, here, take this mahogany case, and walk on before us to that house that you see in the park beyond the trees there. We are close behind you; but take no notice; give the case to one of the servants, and tell him to put it in Mr. Driesen's room; Mr. Driesen's room, mind!"
The boy pulled the front lock of his hair and took the pistol case; and Driesen, turning to Charles, led the way homeward, saying, "Come, Charles, come. My walk has given me an appetite, and I don't think it has taken yours away, though something has taken away the stomach of your adversary, seemingly. I shall go and coax Mrs. Housekeeper to make me a cup of chocolate; for it wants an hour and a half to the breakfast-time yet, and I should be starved if I were to wait so long."
Charles determined he would do so likewise, and they accordingly returned to the house with a more rapid pace than that with which they had left it.
When there, Charles Tyrrell destroyed the notes that he had written, and the whole party met at breakfast, he having once more prepared to set out for Oxford immediately after. Sir Francis, in reality ashamed of what had taken place the day before, but forcing down the throat of his own conscience a persuasion that he had been very much ill treated by his son, enshrouded himself in sullen dignity, read the newspaper, and scarcely spoke to anyone. Lady Tyrrell was present, but sad at her son's departure; and the burden of conversation devolved upon Mr. Driesen, who, to do him but justice, bore it up stoutly.