THE DUELLISTS VANQUISHED
Zany's tidings brought the spur of a great necessity to Miss Lou's jaded spirit, and as her waking thoughts dwelt on the proposed encounter, a slow, deep anger was kindled in her mind. "What right have they to do such a thing?" she asked herself over and over again. Even more than at, the barbarism of the act she revolted at its injustice. "I never wronged either of them," she repeated, "and here they are recklessly bent on what would imbitter my life. The idea of being fought about! Two animals couldn't do worse."
And so the long night was passed in bitter, painful thoughts. With the dawning the bird's innocent songs jarred on her overwrought senses. She looked out of the window by which she had kept her vigil, inhaled the dewy freshness of the air and then bathed her tired, hot eyes.
"To think that men would disturb the peace of such a morning by their miserable, causeless hate! Where is Madison's love for his mother? Why don't they remember the distress and horror that would follow their mad act? Zany, wake up. It is time we were on the watch."
Even as she spoke there was a heavy step in the outer hall, that of the sergeant coming to wake Lieutenant Whately. Miss Lou glanced from her window in time to see Captain Maynard striding from his tent toward the grove which would screen the combatants from observation. Waiting a few moments for the sergeant to retire she and Zany slipped down and out before Whately left his room. They reached the grove from the back entrance of the house, and concealing themselves in some copse-wood, watched for Whately's coming. He soon appeared, walking rapidly as if fearing to be behind time. He was in fact some moments late, having stopped to advise Perkins of the affair on hand. He passed so near his cousin's leafy screen that she could look into his flushed, troubled face and could hear him mutter, "Curse it all! I'm forever getting into scrapes."
For the first time since Zany's news, pity overcame her anger and she murmured, "Poor spoiled boy! It's well for you and your mother that I'm here."
Swiftly she followed him through the still dusky grove, keeping the boles of trees between herself and his form. Beyond the grove was an open grassy field, facing the east, where the light was distinct. Clearly outlined against the rose-tinted horizon was the figure of Maynard standing with his arms folded and his back toward them, apparently lost in deep thought.
"Well, sir," said Whately sternly, "I suppose I should asked your pardon for keeping you waiting."
"I reckon there's plenty of time for the purpose of our meeting," replied Maynard coolly. "Since you are the challenged party and we have no seconds, arrange the matter to suit yourself."
Whately was about to pace off the ground when a girl's voice rang out clearly, "Stop that!"