Chapter
22
The endSir James Ovington’s carriage was waiting without, and in it the Avon family, so tragically separated and so strangely re-united, were borne away to the squire’s hospitable home. When they had gone, my uncle mounted his curricle, and drove Ambrose and myself to the village.
“We had best see your father at once, nephew,” said he. “Sir Lothian and his man started some time ago. I should be sorry if there should be any hitch in our meeting.”
For my part, I was thinking of our opponent’s deadly reputation as a duellist, and I suppose that my features must have betrayed my feelings, for my uncle began to laugh.
“Why, nephew,” said he, “you look as if you were walking behind my coffin. It is not my first affair, and I dare bet that it will not be my last. When I fight near
