Venables and I sat down to our coffee, and ’twas not long before we knew, by the loud voices of the others, that they had laced theirs with rum, or maybe were pretty well filled with wine to begin with.  And, as it always happened when officers of the fleet met together, they were soon hot upon the subject of Mr. Benbow, his rough manners, his rustic speech, and his outrageous lack of respect for his betters.  After a little of this talk Venables says to me: 

“Come, Bold, we are better away from this.”

“You are right,” says I, and we both rose and put on our hats.

Cludde saw the action, and, taking courage I suppose from the presence of his boon fellows, he said, in a tone loud enough to reach my ears: 

“That’s one of his doings.  Simpson tells me that that fellow is a lieutenant on the Falmouth, through Benbow’s interest; he comes from my town Shrewsbury, and a year or two ago was a charity brat, with scarce a coat to his back.”

At this I swung round and took a pace or two towards the table where Cludde was seated.  Though I had much ado to curb my anger, I said quietly: 

“If that is true, Cludde, you know who is the cause of it.”

“I did not speak to you, sirrah,” says he.

“But I speak to you,” I said.  “You may say what you please about me; I will settle my account with you in good time; but I advise you not to say too much about Mr. Benbow, who is not here to answer for himself.”

“Oho, you sneak out of it that way, do you?” says he.  “I’ll say what I please about Mr. Benbow without asking leave of you or any man.  Benbow is a low-born scut—­can you deny it?  Wasn’t his father a tanner, and don’t his sister keep a coffee shop?”

“And what then?”

“What then?  Why, this:  that he ain’t fit to be in the company of gentlemen,” and then he told a foul story of Benbow which angered me past all endurance.

I strode up to him, and before I could be prevented I planted my fist in his face with such force that he toppled backwards over his chair and came to the floor.

“Now you can swallow that lie,” I cried, standing with clenched fists over him.

I was now in the midst of a great hubbub; the officers had started from their chairs, shouting and cursing, some of them helping Cludde to his feet.

“You will answer for this, sir,” says Captain Kirkby.

“With all my heart,” I said.  “Mr. Venables will meet Mr. Cludde’s man and make the arrangements.”

And with that I went from the house.

I ever regarded dueling as a barbarous and foolish way of settling a quarrel.  If men must fight, let them use their fists, and so be quit of it for a bloody nose and a few bruises.  But I could not avoid the duel with Cludde without suffering the imputation of cowardice, and when Venables came after me and said that he had arranged with Simpson that we should meet next morning at daybreak on the Southsea Common and settle the matter with rapiers, I was quite content.  ’Tis true that ere the day was over I regretted in cool blood that things had come to this pass; but I could not think I was in the wrong, and believing myself more than a match for Cludde in swordsmanship I resolved to disarm him quickly, when his friends would no doubt declare him satisfied.