"Now, Sir Richard," said Mr. Byles, stepping up to me with a pistol in his hand, "you will have the goodness to stand here, where I have put down my glove. The words are, 'One, two, three, fire!' but you can fire any time after the word 'Three.'"
"Mind, you keep your arm to your side, and cover your angles," said Mr. Wheatley.
"I will take care," I answered, with a smile; "I am not quite inexperienced in such affairs."
"I suppose not, from the way you take it," he replied. And when they had placed me in a proper position, my two friends withdrew. I could see that my adversary, Mr. Robert Thornton, marched up to his ground with every appearance of boldness. I had been rather inclined, by his preceding conduct, to think that he was somewhat nervous; but no symptom of timidity was now apparent, except indeed a slight touch of swagger in his walk and manner. As he stood before me, I measured him deliberately with my eyes, and thought I had him very sure. He stood on a somewhat angular position, which I was sorry for, as I did not wish to injure him severely, or run the risk of killing him; though I certainly did intend to wound him so as to prevent him doing any more mischief for the present. There seemed to be some little talk between himself, his second, and another friend--about what I know not; and then the two gentlemen left him, and a moment after the words were given by Mr. Wheatley. A slight degree of hesitation, remorse, or what you will, made me reserve my shot till the word "Fire!" had been pronounced. My antagonist fired at the word "Three," but his ball went quite wild. I then raised my hand and fired, being perfectly certain of hitting him, I thought somewhere about the elbow. I fancied, too, that I saw him stagger a little, but he did not fall; and he exclaimed, loudly,--
"Give me another pistol!" Billy Byles and Mr. Wheatley both ran up to me with a fresh weapon, and while the former put it in my hands, the latter whispered,--
"Mind what you are about. He will aim better this time; you have grazed him, and his blood is up. Don't try to spare him, or you'll get killed yourself." It all passed in a moment, and they were gone back to their places before I well knew what had occurred. I continued, however, to eye my antagonist deliberately while the words were spoken, and I could see that he was scanning me in the same manner. This time we both fired together at the word "Three;" and, almost before I heard the report, I felt a smart blow upon the arm, which made me recoil a little with a sensation as if a piece of hot iron had been run into the flesh; but Robert Thornton fell back at once, amidst the long grass, and I lost sight of him. My two friends were up with me in a moment.
"You are wounded! you are wounded!" said Billy Byles, with friendly anxiety. "I saw you stagger; you must be wounded."
"But slightly," I replied; "take the pistol, and just get my handkerchief out of the pocket." I had learned a little of surgery in India, and saw, by the jerking of the stream of blood which was flowing from my arm, that some artery was cut. I therefore made my two friends fold the handkerchief and tie it tightly some way above the wound, by which means the bleeding was soon reduced in quantity, though it continued to ooze a little, though not sufficient to do any harm. I then turned my eyes to the spot where my opponent had stood. Three persons had now gathered round him, one of whom had raised Thornton's head and shoulders on his knee.
"You have done for him!" said Billy Byles; "he seems as dead as a mackerel."
"I hope not," I replied. "I did not intend it; but he stood awkwardly, and it was impossible to be sure of one's shot. I do hope he is not killed."