"My friend, Mr. Neville," he said, "has certainly been grossly insulted by your friend, Sir Morley Ernstein. However, as Neville is peculiarly situated in some respects, Colonel Lieberg, I have advised him to content himself with an apology." He paused for a moment, as if to see whether Lieberg would reply; but that gentleman was as silent as the grave; and Captain Stallfed went on, with a slight degree of embarrassment. "A-hem!" he said; "if, therefore, your friend thinks fit to say that he is sorry for having used the threat of horsewhipping my friend Neville, I have advised him to drop the matter, and rest satisfied."
"I think you are labouring under a mistake, Captain Stallfed," said Lieberg; "my friend Sir Morley Ernstein would have the greatest pleasure in saying that he is sorry for having threatened to horsewhip your friend Mr. Neville, if he were at all sorry; but, as he fully did intend to horsewhip him, in case Mr. Neville did not find a gentleman of honour and repute, such as Captain Stallfed, to bring the matter to another issue for him, you will easily perceive that my friend can offer no apology whatsoever."
Stallfed looked a little disconcerted, and merely saying--"Very well, sir--very well!" retired to confer with Neville again, whose eyes, during the brief conversation between his friend and Lieberg, had been round the field, and up the road, and over the hill, with a very anxious and expectant expression. Lieberg marked all this with a smile, saying to Morley--"He is like a cowardly felon at the gallows-foot, asking to be allowed time for another prayer; but we must interrupt his shrift, otherwise I should not wonder if we were interrupted in our proceedings. Captain Stallfed," he said, advancing again a step or two, "we wait your pleasure, and, as it seems to me that your friend is very apprehensive lest we should be annoyed by the Bow-street officers, we had better proceed as fast as possible."
Captain Stallfed bowed, frowned at Neville, and saying, not too low for the other party to hear--"Nonsense--nonsense, man!--the thing must be;" he came forward to make the necessary preparations with Lieberg.
The spot was chosen, the ground measured, and each second threw down a glove, for his friend's standing place, Lieberg calmly overruling a manœuvre of Stallfed's, to place Morley in a line with a tree. In the meanwhile, the young Baronet walked up and down, with his arms folded on his chest, thinking the preparations somewhat long, while Neville, with the surgeon at his elbow, stood at some distance, listening to such consolations as the man of healing could give him, and evidently under the influence of no very dignified trepidation. Morley, who, from time to time, cast a glance that way, could not help smiling at the bend of the knees, the rounding of the shoulders, and the wandering eagerness of the eye. He thought every moment, indeed, that his gallant antagonist would take to his heels and run, and probably it was only the proximity of the surgeon that prevented such a consummation. Everything being at length complete, however, Lieberg placed his man, saying--"Now, don't miss him, Morley."
"I don't intend to fire at him," replied Morley.
Lieberg looked at him with astonishment, but there was no time for further explanation, and merely saying--"You are joking, surely," he withdrew.
In the meanwhile, Neville, in dead silence had been brought to his ground, and Stallfed gave him some directions in a low voice. "Is the handkerchief tight round your arm?" he asked--"well, raise your pistol smartly, keep him on the outside of your elbow, and you are sure to hit him. Can't you steady your hand, man? That d--d shaking will ruin you!"
Neville answered not a word, and it is probable that at that moment he neither saw, heard, nor understood. The two seconds, however, retired; and, as it had been arranged that the parties were to fire together, the "one, two, three" was pronounced, and both pistols went off very nearly at the same moment. Neville's, indeed, was a little the first, as he had been instructed by his friend, to fire even before the word "three" was pronounced. To the surprise of all parties present, not only did Morley fire directly in the air, but Neville, notwithstanding his terror, his confusion, and his shaking hand, sent his ball with so true an aim, that it passed through Morley's coat, and slightly wounded him, by grazing his right shoulder. Unconscious of his success, however, he fell to the ground at once, as soon as he heard the report of his adversary's pistol; but upon Stallfed and the surgeon coming up, both of whom had clearly seen, that Morley had fired in the air, the swindler got upon his feet again, declaring that he had stumbled over a stone.
"Stumbled!" exclaimed Stallfed, in an angry tone; "why what the devil business had you to move at all? I suppose, Colonel Lieberg, as your friend fired in the air, we cannot demand another fire!"