With which words he made another bow, and a pause of enquiry directed to Puddock, who lisped with dignity—­

’Sir, the duty is, for many reasons, painful; but I—­I can’t refuse, Sir, and I accept the trust.’

So O’Flaherty shook his hand, with another bow; bowed silently and loftily round the room, and disappeared, and a general buzz and a clack of tongues arose.

‘Mr. Nutter—­a—­I hope things may be settled pleasantly,’ said Puddock, looking as tall and weighty as he could; ’at present I—­a—­that is, at the moment, I—­a—­don’t quite see—­[the fact is, he had not a notion what the deuce it was all about]—­but your friend will find me—­your friend—­a—­at my lodgings up to one o’clock to-night, if necessary.’

And so Puddock’s bow.  For the moment an affair of this sort presented itself, all concerned therein became reserved and official, and the representatives merely of a ceremonious etiquette and a minutely-regulated ordeal of battle.  So, as I said, Puddock bowed grandly and sublimely to Nutter, and then magnificently to the company, and made his exit.

There was a sort of a stun and a lull for several seconds.  Something very decisive and serious had occurred.  One or two countenances wore that stern and mysterious smile, which implies no hilarity, but a kind of reaction in presence of the astounding and the slightly horrible.  There was a silence; the gentlemen kept their attitudes too, for some moments, and all eyes were directed toward the door.  Then some turned to Charles Nutter, and then the momentary spell dissolved itself.

CHAPTER VIII.

RELATING HOW DOCTOR TOOLE AND CAPTAIN DEVEREUX WENT ON A MOONLIGHT ERRAND.

Nearly a dozen gentlemen broke out at once into voluble speech.  Nutter was in a confounded passion; but being a man of few words, showed his wrath chiefly in his countenance, and stood with his legs apart and his arms stuffed straight into his coat pockets, his back to the fire-place, with his chest thrown daringly out, sniffing the air in a state of high tension, and as like as a respectable little fellow of five feet six could be to that giant who smelt the blood of the Irishman, and swore, with a ‘Fee!  Faw!!  Fum!!!’ he’d ‘eat him for his supper that night.’

‘None of the corps can represent you, Nutter, you know,’ said Captain Cluffe.  ’It may go hard enough with Puddock and O’Flaherty, as the matter stands; but, by Jove! if any of us appear on the other side, the general would make it a very serious affair, indeed.’

‘Toole, can’t you?’ asked Devereux.

‘Out of the question,’ answered he, shutting his eyes, with a frown, and shaking his head.  ’There’s no man I’d do it sooner for, Nutter knows; but I can’t—­I’ve refused too often; besides, you’ll want me professionally, you know; for Sturk must attend that Royal Hospital enquiry to-morrow all day—­but hang it, where’s the difficulty?  Isn’t there?—­pooh!—­why there must be lots of fellows at hand.  Just—­a—­just think for a minute.’