what men are made of. He is not of that sort. Besides, your man is in the wrong, not that boy. If anybody spoke of my mother like that /I/ would shoot him."
"Very good, Mr. Alston. And now about the pistols; I have none."
"I have a pair of Smith & Wesson revolvers that I bought yesterday to take out to Africa with me. They throw a very heavy bullet, Captain Justice."
"Too heavy. If one of them is hit anywhere in the body----" He did not finish the sentence.
Mr. Alston nodded. "We must put them twenty paces apart, to give them a chance of missing. And now about the place and the time?"
"I know a place on the beach, about a mile and a half from here, that will do very well. You go down that street till you strike the beach, then turn to your right, and follow the line of the sea till you come to a deserted hut or cottage. There we will meet you."
"At what time?"
"Let me see; shall we say a quarter to five. It will be light enough for us then."
"Very good. The Weymouth boat leaves at half-past six. I am going to see about getting my things ready to go to meet it. I should advise you to do the same, Captain Justice. We had better not return here after it is over."
"No."
Then they parted.
Luckily the manager of the hotel had not gone to bed; so the various parties concerned were able to pay their bills, and make arrangements about their luggage being sent to meet the early boat, without exciting the slightest suspicion. Ernest wrote a note, and left it to be given to his friend when he should arrive on the morrow, in which he stated mysteriously that business had called him away. He could not help smiling to himself sadly when he thought that his business might be of a sort that it would take all eternity to settle.
Then he went to his room and wrote two letters, one to Eva and one to Dorothy. Mr. Alston was to post them if anything happened to him. The first was of a passionate nature, and breathed hopes of reunion in another place--ah, how fondly the poor human heart clings to that idea!--the second collected and sensible enough. The letters finished, following Mr. Alston's advice, he undressed and took a bath; then he said his prayers--the prayers his mother had taught him--put on a quiet dark suit of clothes, and went and sat by the open window. The night was very still and fragrant with the sweet strong breath of the sea. Not a sound came from the quaint old town beneath--all was at peace. Ernest, sitting there, wondered whether he would live to see another night, and, if not, what the nights were like in the land whither he was journeying. As he thought of it the grey damps that hide that unrisen world from our gaze struck into his soul and made him feel afraid. Not afraid of death, but afraid of the empty loneliness beyond it--of the cold air of an infinite space in which nothing human can live. Would his mother meet him there, he wondered, or would she put him from her, coming with blood upon his hands? Next he thought of Eva, and in his solitude a tear gathered in his dark eyes, it seemed so hard to go to that other place without her.
CHAPTER XVI
MADAME'S WORK
Presently the eastern sky began to be barred with rays of light, and Ernest knew that the dawn was near.
Rising with a sigh, he made his last preparations, inwardly determining that, if he was to die, he would die in a way befitting all English gentlemen. There should be no sign of his fears on his face when he looked at his adversary's pistol.
Presently there came a soft knock at the door, and Mr. Alston entered with his shoes off. In his hand he held the case containing the two Smith & Wessons.
"We must be off presently," he said. "I just heard Captain Justice go down. Look here, Kershaw, do you understand anything about these?" and he tapped the Smith & Wessons.
"Yes; I have often practised with a pair of old duelling pistols at home. I used to be a very fair shot with them."
"That is lucky. Now take one of these revolvers; I want to give you a lesson, and accustom you to handle it."
"No, I will not. It would not be fair to the other man. If I did, and killed him, I should feel like a murderer."
"As you like; but I am going to tell you something, and give you a bit of advice. These revolvers are hair-triggered; I had the scears filed. When the word is given, bring the barrel of your pistol /down/ till you get the sight well on to your antagonist, somewhere about his chest, then /press/ the trigger, do not pull it, remember that. If you do as I tell you, he will never hear the report. Above all, do not lose your nerve; and don't be sentimental and fire in the air, or any such nonsense, for that is a most futile proceeding, morally, and in every other way. Mark my words, if you do not kill him, he will kill you. He intends to kill you, and you are in the right. Now we must be going. Your luggage is in the hall, is it not?"
"All except this bag."
"Very good; bring it down with you. My boy will bring it to the boat with my own. If you are not hit, you will do well to get out of this as soon as possible. I mean to make for Southampton as straight as I can. There is a vessel sailing for South Africa on Friday morning; I shall embark in her. We will settle what you are to do afterwards."
"Yes," said Ernest, with a smile, "there is no need to talk of that at present."
Five minutes afterwards they met in the hall, and slipped quietly out through the door that always stood open all night for the accommodation of visitors addicted to late hours. Following the street that Captain Justice had pointed out, they descended to the beach, and, turning to the right, walked along it leisurely. The early morning air was very sweet, and all nature smiled dimly upon them as they went, for the sun was not yet up; but at that moment Ernest did not think much of the beauty of the morning. It all seemed like a frightful dream. At last they came to the deserted hut, looming large in the grey mist. By it stood two figures.
"They are there already," said Mr. Alston.
As they approached, the two figures lifted their hats, a compliment which they returned. Then Mr. Alston went to Captain Justice, and fell into conversation with him, and together they paced off a certain distance on the sand, marking its limits with their walking sticks. Ernest noticed that it was about the length of a short cricket pitch.
"Shall we place them?" he heard Captain Justice say.
"Not just yet," was the reply; "there is barely light enough."
"Now, gentlemen," said Mr. Alston presently, "I have prepared in duplicate a paper setting forth as fairly as I can the circumstances under which this unhappy affair has come about. I propose to read it to you, and to ask you all to sign it, as a protection to--to us all. I have brought a pen and a pocket ink-pot with me for that purpose."
Nobody objected, so he read the paper. It was short, concise, and just, and they all signed it as it stood. Ernest's hand shook a good deal as he did so.
"Come, that won't do," said Mr. Alston, encouragingly, as he pocketed one copy of the document after handing the other to Captain Justice. "Shake yourself together, man!"
But for all his brave words he looked the more nervous of the two.
"I wish to say," began Ernest, addressing himself to all the other three, "that this quarrel is none of my seeking. I could not in honour give up the note the lady wrote to me. But I feel that this is a dreadful business; and if you," addressing his cousin, "are ready to apologise for what you said about my mother, I am ready to do the same for attacking you."
Mr. Hugh Kershaw smiled bitterly, and, turning, said something to his second. Ernest caught the words "white feather."
"Mr. Hugh Kershaw refuses to offer any apology; he expects one," was Captain Justice's ready answer.
"Then if any blood is shed, on his head be it!" said Mr. Alston solemnly. "Come let us get it over."
Each took his man