"Fernando, me boy, we've loaded the pistols. He loaded this and I the one for the lieutenant, I put in a thumpin' heavy charge, so he'll overshoot, I am to give the word; but don't look at me at all. I'll manage to catch the lieutenant's eye, and do ye watch him steadily, aim at his middle and fire when he does, and all will be right."
They were all the while moving to the place selected for the duel.
"I think the ground we are leaving behind us is rather better," said someone. "So it is," answered the lieutenant with a sneer; "but it might be troublesome to carry the young gentleman down that way; here all is fair and easy."
In a few moments they were at the spot; the ground was measured off, and each man was placed, and Fernando thought there was no chance for either escaping.
"Now thin," said Terrence. "I'll walk twelve paces, count 'one, two, three, fire!' and you are both to fire at the word 'fire.' The man who reserves his shot or shoots a second before falls by my hand!"
This stern injunction seemed actually to awe the Britons, and Fernando fancied that he saw the lieutenant trembling. It was only fancy however. The lieutenant was really calm. Notwithstanding the advice of Terrence, Fernando could not help turning his eyes from the lieutenant to watch the figure of his retiring friend. At last he stopped--a second or two elapsed--he wheeled rapidly around. Fernando now turned his eyes toward his antagonist.
Lieutenant Matson was a slender man, and when he turned his right side toward Fernando, he was not much thicker than a rail.
"One--two--three--fire!"
Fernando watched his opponent, and, at the word, raised his pistol and fired. His hat flew from his head, the crown torn completely out, while his antagonist leaped into the air, clapped his hand to the seat of his trousers and fell howling upon the ground. The people around Fernando all rushed forward, save Sukey, who came to his friend and, seeing that he was unhurt, began a mild reproof:
"Why didn't you aim higher, Fernando?"