Beaufort tried to smile, and bit his lips, while a small red spot upon his cheek spoke that some deeper feeling of irritation than the mere careless manner of the major could account for, still rankled in his bosom. We now walked on without speaking, except when occasionally some passing observation of Beaufort upon the fineness of the evening, or the rugged nature of the road, broke the silence. As we emerged from the little mountain pass into the open meadow land, the tall and soldier-like figure of Trevyllian was the first object that presented itself. He was standing beside a little stone cross that stood above a holy well, and seemed occupied in deciphering the inscription. He turned at the noise of our approach, and calmly waited our coming. His eye glanced quickly from the features of O’Shaughnessy to those of Baker; but seeming rapidly reassured as he walked forward, his face at once recovered its usual severity and its cold, impassive look of sternness.
“All right!” said Beaufort, in a whisper the tones of which I overheard, as he drew near to his friend. Trevyllian smiled in return, but did not speak. During the few moments which passed in conversation between the seconds, I turned from the spot with Baker, and had scarcely time to address a question to him, when O’Shaughnessy called out, “Hollo, Baker!—come here a moment!” The three seemed now in eager discussion for some minutes, when Baker walked towards Trevyllian, and saying something, appeared to wait for his reply. This being obtained, he joined the others, and the moment afterwards came to where I was standing. “You are to toss for first shot, O’Malley. O’Shaughnessy has made that proposition, and the others agree that with two crack marksmen, it is perhaps the fairest way. I suppose you have no objection?”
“Of course, I shall make none. Whatever O’Shaughnessy decides for me I am ready to abide by.”
“Well, then, as to the distance?” said Beaufort, loud enough to be heard by me where I was standing. O’Shaughnessy’s reply I could not catch, but it was evident, from the tone of both parties, that some difference existed on the point.
“Captain Baker shall decide between us,” said Beaufort, at length, and they all walked away to some distance. During all the while I could perceive that Trevyllian’s uneasiness and impatience seemed extreme; he looked from the speakers to the little mountain pass, and strained his eyes in every direction. It was clear that he dreaded some interruption. At last, unable any longer to control his feelings, he called out, “Beaufort, I say, what the devil are we waiting for now?”
“Nothing at present,” said Beaufort, as he came forward with a dollar in his hand. “Come, Major O’Shaughnessy, you shall call for your friend.”
He pitched the piece of money as he spoke high into the air, and watched it as it fell on the soft grass beneath.
“Head! for a thousand,” cried O’Shaughnessy, running over and stooping down; “and head it is!”
“You’ve won the first shot,” whispered Baker; “for Heaven’s sake be cool!”
Beaufort grew deadly pale as he bent over the crownpiece, and seemed scarcely to have courage to look his friend in his face. Not so Trevyllian; he pulled off his gloves without the slightest semblance of emotion, buttoned up his well-fitting black frock to the throat, and throwing a rapid glance around, seemed only eager to begin the combat.