eagerly pounced on them. They were European and American journals—the political and civil bonds which again united the Great Eastern to the two continents.
CHAPTER XXVIII
A DUEL WITH SWORDS
The storm was gathering, and a black arch of clouds had formed over our heads; the atmosphere was misty; nature was evidently about to justify Dr. Pitferge's presentiments. The steamship had slackened her speed, and the wheels only made three or four revolutions a minute; volumes of white steam escaped from the half-open valves, the anchor-chains were cleared, and the British flag floated from the mainmast; these arrangements Captain Anderson had made preparatory to mooring. The pilot, standing on the top of the starboard paddle, guided the steamship through the narrow passages with skill; but the tide was already turning, so that the Great Eastern could not yet cross the bar of the Hudson, and we must wait till next day.
At a quarter to five by the pilot's orders the anchors were let go; the chains rattled through the hawse-holes with a noise like thunder. I even thought for a moment that the storm had burst forth. When the anchors were firmly embedded in the sand, the Great Eastern swung round by the ebb tide, remained motionless, and not a wave disturbed the surface of the water.
At this moment the steward's trumpet sounded for the last time; it called the passengers to their farewell dinner. The "Society of Freighters" would be prodigal with the champagne, and no one wished to be absent. An hour later the saloons were crowded with guests, and the deck deserted.
However, seven persons left their places unoccupied; the two adversaries, who were going to stake their lives in a duel, the four seconds, and the Doctor, who was to be present at the engagement. The time and the place for the meeting had been well chosen; there was not a creature on deck; the passengers were in the dining-rooms, the sailors in their berths, the officers absorbed with their own particular bot-
