"What are ye thinkin' of, Fernando?" asked Terrence, when the boat with the three young men was under way.
"I'm thinking, sir, if I were to kill him, what I must do after."
"Right, my boy; nothing like it; but 1811 will settle all for ye. I don't believe, now that America is on the verge of war with the British, that my one will make much of a row for killin' the murdherin' baste. Are ye a good shot?"
"I am with a rifle; but I never could do anything to speak of with a pistol."
"I don't moind that. Ye've a good eye; never take it off him after you're on the ground; follow him everywhere. I knew a fellow in Ireland who always shot his man that way. Look without winkin'; it's fatal at a short distance--a very good thing to learn, when ye've a little spare time."
As they came in sight of the beach where the duel was to be fought, they perceived, a few hundred yards off, a group of persons standing on the sands, whom they recognized as their opponents.
"Fernando," said Terrence, grasping his arm firmly, as if to instill into him some of his own hope and confidence, "Fernando, although you're only a boy, I've no fear of your courage; but this Lieutenant Matson is a famous duelist, and he will try to shake your nerve. Now remember that ye take everything that happens quite with an air of indifference; don't let him think he has iny advantage over ye, and you'll see how the tables will be turned in your favor."
"Trust me, Terrence, I'll not disgrace you," Stevens answered.
"You are twelve minutes late, Mr. Malone," said the ensign, who acted as the lieutenant's second; "but we shall all be able to get back to breakfast--those that will care to eat."
Not to be outdone, Terrence said: