Nothing could exceed the politeness of the parties on my consenting to this arrangement.

Dr.Finucane proposed Carrigaholt, as the rendezvous, about 12 miles, I believe, from Kilrush, and Tuesday evening at six as the time, which will be the very earliest moment we can arrive there.

So, pray be up to time, and believe me yours, C.Curzon, Saturday Evening." It was late on Monday evening when this letter reached me, and there was no time to be lost, as I was then about 40 Irish miles from the place mentioned by Curzon; so after briefly acquainting Lord Callonby that I was called off by duty, I hurried to my room to pack my clothes, and again read over this extraordinary epistle.
I confess it did appear something droll, how completely Curzon seemed to imbibe the passion for fighting from these "blood-thirsty Irishmen." For by his own showing he was utterly ignorant of my ever having offended this Mr.Beamish, of whom I recollected nothing whatever.

Yet when the gentleman waxes wrothy, rather than inconvenience him, or perhaps anxious to get back to the mess, he coolly says, "Oh, my friend shall meet you," and then his pleasant jest, "find out the cause of quarrel from his executors!" Truly, thought I, there is no equanimity like his who acts as your second in a duel.

The gentlemanlike urbanity with which he waits on the opposite friend--the conciliating tone with which he proffers implacable enmity--the killing kindness with which he refuses all accommodation--the Talleyrand air of his short notes, dated from the "Travellers," or "Brookes," with the words 3 o'clock or 5 o'clock on the cover, all indicative of the friendly precipitancy of the negociation.