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"Mr. Pipes," said the painter, with disordered accent, "methinks
the doctor was in a pestilent hurry with that message of his."--"Ey,
ey," answered Tom, "I do suppose he longs to be foul of you."--"What,"
replied the other, "d'ye think he thirsts after my blood?"--"To
be sure a does," said Pipes, thrusting a large quid of tobacco in
his check, with great deliberation. "If that be the case," cried
Pallet, beginning to shake, "he is no better than a cannibal, and
no Christian ought to fight him on equal footing." Tom observing
his emotion, eyed him with a frown of indignation, saying, "You an't
afraid, are you?"--"God forbid," replied the challenger, stammering
with fear; "what should I be afraid of? The worst he can do is to
take my life, and then he'll be answerable both to God and man for
the murder. Don't you think he will?"--"I think no such matter,"
answered the second; "if so be as how he puts a brace of bullets
through your bows, and kills you fairly, it is no more murder than
if I was to bring down a noddy from the main top-sail yard.


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