But if my prospective opponent was one who could not be faced antagonistically without a severe effort, the second whom he chose was one against whose side I could fight with the utmost readiness, thanks to the irritating power he possessed upon me.  He was Lieutenant Chubb, whom I had worsted in the affair to which I have alluded earlier, which grew out of his assumption of superiority to us who were of American birth.  I had subjected this cock to such deference in my presence, that he now rejoiced at what promised to be my defeat, and his revenge by proxy, so great reliance he placed upon Captain Falconer’s skill with either sword or pistol.  I chose the latter weapon, however, without much perturbation, inwardly resolved that the gloating Chubb should so far fail of his triumph, as to suffer a second humiliation in the defeat of his principal.  For my own second, Lieutenant Berrian, of our brigade, did me the honour to go out with me.  A young New York surgeon, Doctor Williams, obliged us by assuming the risk which it would have been too much to ask Doctor McLaughlin to undertake a second time.  At my desire, the place and hour set were those at which Tom Faringfield had met his death.  I felt that the memory of his dying face would be strongest, there and then, to make my arm and sight quick and sure.

A thaw had carried away much of the snow, and hence we had it not as light as it had been for Tom’s duel; although the moon made our outlines and features perfectly distinct as we assembled in the hollow, and it would make our pistol-barrels shine brightly enough when the time came, as I ascertained by taking aim at an imaginary mark.

Falconer and I stood each alone, while the seconds stepped off the paces and the surgeon lighted a small lantern which might enable him to throw, upon a possible wound, rays more to the purpose than the moon afforded.  I was less agitated, I think, than the doctor himself, who was new to such an affair.  I kept my mind upon the change wrought in the Faringfield household, upon the fate of Tom, upon what I imagined would be Philip’s feelings; and I had a thought, too, for the disappointment of my old enemy Chubb if I could cap the firing signal with a shot the fraction of a second before my antagonist could.  We were to stand with our backs toward each other, at the full distance, and, upon the word, might turn and fire as soon as possible.  To be the first in wheeling round upon a heel, and covering the foe, was my one concern, and, as I took my place, I dismissed all else from my mind, to devote my entire self, bodily and mental, to that one series of movements:  all else but one single impression, and that was of malicious exultation upon the face of Chubb.

“You’ll smile on t’other side of your face in a minute,” thought I, pressing my teeth together.

I was giving my hand its final adjustment to the pistol, when suddenly a man dashed out of the covert at one side of the hollow, and ran toward us, calling out in a gruff voice: