“Oh, God! perhaps it was at five they were to meet. Oh, hasten!”
Their way was first through the lawn, then through the stubble field, then into the copse wood that gradually merged in the thick forest behind the burial ground.
“Do you know the exact spot of the purposed meeting, Margaret?” inquired the doctor.
“Oh, no, sir, I do not. I only know that my father gave orders for the boat to be in readiness to take him (and his second, of course) to the beach below the burial ground at this point. Now, as the beach is narrow, and the burial ground too sacred a place for such a purpose, I thought of these woods above it.”
“Exactly; and there is a natural opening, a sort of level glade, on the top of this wooded hill, that I think likely to be the place selected. We will push forward to that spot.”
They hurried on. A walk of five minutes brought them to within the sound of voices, that convinced them that they were near the dueling ground.
A few more rapid steps led them to a small, level, open glade, on the summit of the wooded hill.
Oh, Heaven of heavens! What a sight to meet the eyes of a daughter and a promised wife!
The ground was already marked off. In the drawing of the lots it seemed that the best position had fallen to her father, for he stood with his back to the rising sun, which shone full into the face of Ralph, at the same time dazzling his eyes, and making him the fairest mark for the best marksman in the country.
At right angles with the principals stood the seconds, one of them having a handkerchief held in his hand, while the other prepared to give the word.