Nearly a minute elapsed before the duel commenced, the combatants measuring each other, meantime, with their eyes. Our hero saw at once, from the easy position of his opponent, that all his skill and caution would be required to disarm Aylesford; for already he had cooled sufficiently to come to the resolve not to shed his adversary’s blood.

On his part Aylesford was secretly admiring the fine person and practised air of our hero. But no charitable feelings found place in the bosom of the insulter. He had determined to take his opponent’s life, and he had few misgivings as to success, for he was not only an expert swordsman, in a day when every gentleman thought it a necessary part of his education to have skill in fence, but he had been considered, by his teacher, the most adroit of scores of pupils. As yet, indeed, he had never met his match, except in his old master. “It will be easy work with this militia officer, and quondam attorney,” he said to himself, scornfully beginning the contest.

But Aylesford was not long in discovering that he had underrated his adversary’s skill. He quickly saw, by the style of his opponent’s fence, that it was the intention of Major Gordon to disarm him: and irritated at what he believed to be a contemptuous forbearance, in one of whom he had just been expecting to make an easy victim, he began to throw more vehemence into the combat than was altogether prudent. He soon, in consequence, laid himself open to a lunge from his antagonist; but, as we have seen, it did not suit Major Gordon’s purpose to take advantage of this; and Aylesford, taught a lesson, fought for awhile with more caution.

We will not weary the reader with a catalogue of terms, of whose meaning he is probably ignorant, in order to describe, in accurate detail, the progress of the duel. But if he had been a spectator, he would have held his breath in horror at the rapid flashing of the blades and the rattling of the steel, whose lightning-like movements his eye would have vainly tried to follow. Every moment he would have expected one or both of the antagonists to fall, and would have wondered, as the struggle went on, why this did not happen.

The reason was, that never, perhaps, were two combatants more equally matched. Aylesford was really superior in skill, but Major Gordon was more cool; the first was ready to take every advantage, the latter fought only to disarm his adversary. For some time, therefore, the chances hung equally balanced. At last Aylesford, impatient to terminate this protracted strife, began again to be more vehement in his assault. But though pressing his opponent severely, he took care not to expose himself a second time. His attack was so rapid and fierce, that Major Gordon was compelled to give ground, at which Aylesford, now confident of a speedy victory, rushed on more relentlessly than ever, though still covering himself with so much skill, that his antagonist could not but admire, even as he reluctantly fell back. Had the assault been less splendid, Major Gordon might have reserved his own strength, while Aylesford was expending his; but it demanded our hero’s whole energies to save his life, so that he soon became as exhausted as his opponent. The assailer perceived this, and continued his vigorous assault, knitting his teeth, and inwardly vowing, in the savageness of his passion, to run his rival through to the very hilt. At last, when he had pressed Major Gordon a considerable distance, the foot of the latter struck against an inequality in the ground; he made a slight stumble backwards; and, for an instant, lost his guard. Quick as thought, Aylesford took advantage of it, and lunged desperately, regardless of caution, which he thought no longer necessary.

But what was his astonishment, instead of seeing his blade enter the defenceless front of his antagonist, to observe Major Gordon recover himself, and avert the thrust by a dexterous twist, which he thought was known only to himself and his master. It was all the work of an instant, demanding less time than it has taken the reader to peruse the description.

“Ha!” hissed Aylesford to himself, with a curse, now fairly frantic with rage and baffled revenge, “he must have had lessons from my old teacher. From no one but him, or the devil, could he have learned that trick of fence. But he is blown; he is less practised than I am; and I’ll have his heart’s blood yet.”

It must not be supposed that there was any pause, while he thus soliloquized. On the contrary, the attack went forward as desperately as before. Major Gordon at last began to acknowledge to himself it would be impossible for him to disarm his adversary, and that he must either lose his own life, or take that of the vindictive young man. The last alternative was only less objectionable than the first, since it would incontestibly banish him forever from Kate. But the liberty of choice was not left to him. He felt himself so hard pressed that he could count on nothing with certainty. All he could do was to defend himself, and watch for his opportunity, if fortunately it should come, or to die, if another and more serious stumble should be his lot.

CHAPTER XX.
THE INTERRUPTION

There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave,
To tell us this. —Shakespeare.