7. CHAPTER VII.
HOW MAX VERY NEARLY FOUGHT A DUEL WITH MR. HANS
HUDDLESHINGLE, ABOUT HIS COAT.
As Max Courtlandt passed by Mr. Barlow's door, his
jealous eye fell upon a gentleman who, with his hands
stuck in his pockets, was occupied in gazing intently on
the celebrated coat. Max felt all the jealousy of a lover,
when the heart of his mistress is endeavored to be alienated
from him.
On approaching nearer he discovered that this man was
an acquaintance, and no other than the individual who
had been pointed out by his prophetic imagination as the
rival he would probably encounter in his attempt to seduce
into his possession the much coveted coat. In a
word, the gentleman gazing so intently into the window
of Mr. Barlow's establishment, was that red-haired, broad-shouldered,
and red-cheeked young German, Mr. Hans
Huddleshingle.
“Hans,” said the young man, touching him on the
shoulder, “what are you looking at there?”
Mr. Huddleshingle turned round.
“At that coat,” he replied.
“That coat—ah!”
“Well, what is so strange in that?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“It is a very pretty coat.”
“Very!”
“The finest lace I ever saw.”
“Yes, it is,” said Max.
“I think I should like to have it.”
“But you shall not!” cried Max.
“Shall not? what do you mean?”
“I mean you shall not have that coat in the window.”
“If I want it, I will.”
“Try it,” said Max, getting angry; “it is mine, sir,
and you shall not lay your hand on it.”
“Hallo!” cried Mr. Barlow, coming out of his shop,
“what's all this about—quarreling, gentlemen?”
“I was not,” said Mr. Huddleshingle.
“I have no desire to quarrel with any one,” said Max,
“but—”
“Well, Mr. Huddleshingle, I am ready.”
“Where are you going?” asked Max.
“To the court-house. I am subpenaed in a suit of
Mr. Huddleshingle's, which will be tried to-day, and he
came round for me.”
“And he was waiting here—”
“Until I had locked my money drawer,” replied Mr.
Barlow.
Max burst out laughing.
“Hans,” he said, offering his hand, “I beg your pardon
for my rudeness; but I thought you were bent on depriving
me of my coat. Now I have set my heart on having
that coat, and I believe I should fight in mortal combat
for it.”
“You were near it,” said Mr. Barlow, laughing, while
the young men shook hands—Max cordially, Mr. Huddleshingle
phlegmatically; “but I had promised to keep it
for you, had I not?”
“Yes, you had. But when a person has but one idea in
his head, he is always doing something foolish. That coat
is my single idea, at present.”
“It's a good-looking coat—but I don't want it,” said
Mr. Huddleshingle, “come go with us to the court-house,
and hear Lyttelton. He is booked for a great speech to-day.”
“What the solemn Mr. Lyttelton?”
“William Lyttelton.”
“I'll go; he looks as wise as an owl. If I can get up
as grave a face, when I get my license, my fortune will
be made.”
In five minutes, they reached the court-house.
“Come, here we are,” said Mr. Huddleshingle; “Mr.
Barlow, we'll be ready for you in a little time.”
So saying, the young German led the way into the court-house.
