[1816]

    Lastly — and as though in a different hand — or written on a different day, or a different mood — is appended this: — ‘Ali — A dark star presided at our meeting — I feel a doom upon me that I cannot limn!  Remember — where there is sin, there may be Forgiveness — if there is Repentance.  It will be my constant prayer for you. —  The child is well and I hasten to tell you of it for I believe you are fonder of it than I am, and fonder of it than you are of me.   — Catherine’

            A carriage, just at that juncture arriving, deposits before Ali the Honourable Mr. Peter Piper, done up in fur-collar and gauntlets, all again prepared as before.  Without words Ali brings him within the house — from which by now the plate, the valuables, the books and most of the moveables have been taken away for sale — and on the last chair before the last table he takes paper, and in the few words necessary he makes a Will, repudiating all previous ones, and leaving all that he may possess, in whatever kind, to Catherine, Lady Sane, and to her daughter — this he sands, and turns to the Honourable, that he may witness.   ‘All is accomplished,’ said Ali.  ‘I have presentiment I shall not ever return to this house. Do you keep that, and see that Mr. Bland, of the Temple, receives it.’

            ‘I shall do all you ask,’ said that faithful gentleman, with all his kind heart, and nothing foolish added, of unwarranted hope, or good cheer.

            ‘Then let us share a glass,’ said Ali, ‘and be off!’

So, Reader,  we make our way again to the dark neighborhood of shuttered shops and dull hoardings where men may meet without the Law’s notice, there to await the election of Fate. 

    On this occasion, however, all went according to the world’s way, without mysteries.  The light was clear — as clear as the smoky air of London, that half-unquenched Volcano, may ever be — and the Seconds discoursed in the field, and made their measurements, and here kicked away an inconvenient Stone, and there tossed a Straw into the air to see which way the breeze blew, and examined the case of Pistols which the Honourable had again provided, the young gent. from indifference (or Dutch courage) not caring to choose, as was his right.  Ali in his place felt an indifference too, that frightened him more than the prospect of a slug in his heart — it seemed he cared for nothing, that Nothing had swarmed up from the lock’d place where it had always dwelt within him, and cloaked him in its cloud — and if that were so, then he might upon the moment carelessly toss away his life — which he truly wished he cared to keep — a philosophical tangle that only a double soul can know!  

    Thinking on these things, he stept to the centre of the ground, where now the Honourable had been elected to toss a coin determining which gentleman should fire first.  Ali now saw clearly the bloodless cheek of the boy before him — the tremble of his lip — bethought him that the man was some mother’s son, some Father’s hope — and he cared not.  The Gods thereupon, noting his indifference — so like their own! — favoured him, and the shilling came down with the King’s likeness facing up.