‘Snodgrass,’ said Mr. Winkle, when they had turned out of the public street.‘Snodgrass, my dear fellow, can I rely upon your secrecy?’ As he said this, he most devoutly and earnestly hoped he could not.     

       ‘You can,’ replied Mr. Snodgrass. ‘Hear me swear—’      

       ‘No, no,’ interrupted Winkle, terrified at the idea of his companion’s unconsciously pledging himself not to give information; ‘don’t swear, don’t swear; it’s quite unnecessary.’      

       Mr. Snodgrass dropped the hand which he had, in the spirit of poesy, raised towards the clouds as he made the above appeal, and assumed an attitude of attention.     

       ‘I want your assistance, my dear fellow, in an affair of honour,’ said Mr. Winkle.     

       ‘You shall have it,’ replied Mr. Snodgrass, clasping his friend’s hand.     

       ‘With a doctor—Doctor Slammer, of the 97th,’ said Mr. Winkle, wishing to make the matter appear as solemn as possible; ‘an affair with an officer, seconded by another officer, at sunset this evening, in a lonely field beyond Fort Pitt.’      

       ‘I will attend you,’ said Mr. Snodgrass.     

       He was astonished, but by no means dismayed. It is extraordinary how cool any party but the principal can be in such cases. Mr. Winkle had forgotten this. He had judged of his friend’s feelings by his own.     

       ‘The consequences may be dreadful,’ said Mr. Winkle.     

       ‘I hope not,’ said Mr. Snodgrass.     

       ‘The doctor, I believe, is a very good shot,’ said Mr. Winkle.     

       ‘Most of these military men are,’ observed Mr. Snodgrass calmly; ‘but so are you, ain’t you?’      

       Mr. Winkle replied in the affirmative; and perceiving that he had not alarmed his companion sufficiently, changed his ground.     

       ‘Snodgrass,’ he said, in a voice tremulous with emotion, ‘if I fall, you will find in a packet which I shall place in your hands a note for my—for my father.’      

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