It occurred to Mr. Winkle that this advice was very like that which bystanders invariably give to the smallest boy in a street fight, namely, “Go in, and win”⁠—an admirable thing to recommend, if you only know how to do it. He took off his cloak, however, in silence⁠—it always took a long time to undo that cloak⁠—and accepted the pistol. The seconds retired, the gentleman on the campstool did the same, and the belligerents approached each other.

Mr. Winkle was always remarkable for extreme humanity. It is conjectured that his unwillingness to hurt a fellow-creature intentionally was the cause of his shutting his eyes when he arrived at the fatal spot; and that the circumstance of his eyes being closed, prevented his observing the very extraordinary and unaccountable demeanour of Doctor Slammer. That gentleman started, stared, retreated, rubbed his eyes, stared again, and, finally, shouted, “Stop, stop!”