His name, it seemed, was Morris.

He was a major in the Oxfordshire Militia.
Soane answered with impatience.

'I have no second,' he said, 'but my surgeon will be a competent witness.' 'Ah! to be sure!' Major Morris answered, with a sigh of relief.

'That is so.

Then, gentlemen, I shall give the signal by saying One, two, three! Be good enough to fire together at the word Three! Do you understand ?' 'Yes,' said Mr.Dunborough.And 'Yes,' Sir George said more slowly.
'Then, now, be ready! Prepare to fire! One! two! th--' 'Stay!' flashed Mr.Dunborough, while the word still hung in the air.
'You have not given us our pistols,' he continued, with an oath.
'What ?' cried the second, staring.
'Man, you have not given us our pistols.' The major was covered with confusion.