She heard one of the men say:
"Save yourself, Laurence;" then Hinchley called out:
"Not yet—not yet; it is only my arm; there is no danger. Edward, believe me, Margaret never wrote that letter. Keep her name out of this quarrel. It will yet be explained."
Laurence only replied by a gesture of dissent. The seconds raised the wounded man, bore him to a carriage which was stationed a little way off, placed him upon the seat, and the party drove away.
Laurence stood like a statue, gazing moodily upon the pistol he grasped in his hand.
Sybil hurried down the bank, calling out:
"Laurence! Laurence!"
He turned at her approach, flung the pistol away, and caught her in his arms.
"I am revenged," he said. "I have nothing left in the world but you, Sybil Chase. Oh, say that you love me!"