"The word, Dig—will you give us the word?"
"Yes, yes, Barry, yes, my dear boy—certainly!" But still Mr. Smivvle hesitated, and ever the small sound grew bigger and louder.
"S-speak! Will you s-speak, Dig?"
"Oh, Barry—my dear boy, yes! Ready?"
At the word the two pistols were raised and levelled, almost on the instant, and with his haggard eyes turned towards Barrymaine's corner, Mr. Smivvle spoke again:
"One!—Two!—Three—"
A flash, a single deafening report, and Ronald Barrymaine lurched sideways, caught at the wall, swayed backwards into the corner and leaned there.
"Coward,—you fired too soon!" cried Smivvle, turning upon Mr. Chichester in sudden frenzy, "Villain! Rouge! you fired too soon—!"
"S-stand away, Dig!" said Barrymaine faintly.
"Oh, Barry—you're bleeding! By God, he's hit you!"