"There is my hand; I bear no ill-will to you, either for my bad luck or your better swordsmanship." The Master looked steadily at him for an instant, then extended his hand to him.

"Bucklaw," he said, "you are a generous fellow, and I have done you wrong.

I heartily ask your pardon for the expression which offended you; it was hastily and incautiously uttered, and I am convinced it is totally misapplied." "Are you indeed, Master ?" said Bucklaw, his face resuming at once its natural expression of light-hearted carelessness and audacity; "that is more than I expected of you; for, Master, men say you are not ready to retract your opinion and your language." "Not when I have well considered them," said the Master.
"Then you are a little wiser than I am, for I always give my friend satisfaction first, and explanation afterwards.

If one of us falls, all accounts are settled; if not, men are never so ready for peace as after war.

But what does that bawling brat of a boy want ?" said Bucklaw.