“Where am I?” he muttered. Let the law put its hand on his shoulder—if it could! But at present he was at liberty, and he purposed to remain in that state. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. It was a duel, you understand, and that is not permitted. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. They went first to a hotel, and then out again on to the boulevards. "No, no, Sir," replied Ireton.
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