“We’ve fixed it,” cried California Charley, as he was called by the crowd, interrupting the confidential advice which Fred was receiving.  “We have concluded to let Burley have a shot to heal his wounded honor, as he calls his black eye.  A devilish bad looking peeper he has got, and a stunning blow you must have given him to have produced such an effect.”

“When is it to come off?” I asked, almost trembling for Fred.

“We have decided that it shall take place immediately, ’cos it would be cruel to disappoint the crowd assembled.  They expect a duel, and we must gratify them.  If you are successful, you will be the most popular man in Ballarat, and there is no knowing what is in store for you.”

“What weapons are we to use?” Fred asked.

“Revolvers, to be sure.  I’ve promised to let the fellow use mine for the sake of placing him on an equality with you.  I see that you have a revolver, so that I know you will be able to shoot better with it than a strange pistol.  But remember, we have no fooling about the affair.  I never stand second for a man unless he tries to win, and I should hate to think that you were foolish enough to throw away your fire.  Do you kill him the first time, or he will kill you.”

Fred thanked our countryman for his advice, and for a moment we conferred together apart.

“The same directions which I gave you when I was compelled to fight my first duel, will answer for this,” Fred said.  “If any thing should happen, don’t let me be buried near this place.  Carry my body to the old convict’s hut, and let me be interred there by the side of the stream.”

I promised, although there were tears in my eyes and a choking sensation in my throat, as I did so.

“Don’t give way to any weakness, here,” Fred whispered.  “Remember that the eyes of a thousand people are upon us.  Let them see that we possess the true Yankee grit.”

He squeezed my hand as he spoke, and the next instant I was restored to my usual calmness, as far as the prying eyes which were fastened upon us could discover.

“Am I to be kept waiting all day for the young feller to say his prayers?” roared the bully, who began to grow impatient for blood.

“Don’t let him call again,” said Charley; “if he does, the people will think we are rather backward to meet him.  Sympathy is now all on our side, and we must not lose it.”

“I am ready,” replied Fred, after a brief inspection of his revolver.

“That’s right—­are you certain that those caps are not damp?  Do you want any thing?  Can I do any thing for you?”

With these questions, and half a dozen others in the same breath, which Charley asked as rapidly as though there was not a moment to spare, Fred was conducted near his adversary, who uttered an exclamation when he saw him, that was intended for an intimidation.

“Where shall I hit the d——­d Yankee?” he cried, brandishing his pistol.  “I’ll pepper him just where you tell me to, and afterwards we’ll drink his speedy passage to—­”