The next morning the parties met, with their seconds, firmly bent upon shooting each other.

There was no flinching on the part of the principals; no desire evinced to give or receive an apology.

The seconds, however, were made of milder stuff; and neither of them being Irishmen, thought they would be justified in rendering the duel a bloodless one, and transforming a grave matter into a harmless joke.
They accordingly loaded the pistols with powder only, keeping the bullets in their pockets; probably taking the hint from the well-blazoned proceedings in the duel fought at Chalk farm, a few years before, between Jeffries and Moore, "When Little's leadless pistol met the eye, While Bow Street myrmidons stood laughing by." The word was given, and both parties fired.

No harm was done; but apologies were out of the question, and "another shot" was loudly and peremptorily called for, and the distance, eight paces was shortened to six.

The farce was again repeated, when Murray, wondering at the bloodless result, espied a smile on the features of his second, which did not seem in keeping with the gravity of the occasion.