He lifted his cane as if to threaten the old man. But the insult roused Edie's ancient courage.
"Hold down your switch, Captain MacIntyre! I am an auld soldier, and I'll tak' muckle from your father's son—but not a touch o' the wand while my pike-staff will hold together!"
"I was wrong—I was wrong," said MacIntyre, relenting, "here is a crown for you—go your ways."
But Edie refused the money, exhorting the young men to go and fight the French instead of each other, if they were so fighting hot. But neither his words nor the efforts of the seconds could reconcile MacIntyre to the man with whom he had from the first resolved to quarrel.
The ground was measured out by the seconds, while old Edie stood unheeded at the side muttering, "Bairns, bairns—madmen, I should rather say! Weel, your blood be on your heads!"
The fatal signal was given. Both fired almost at the same moment. Captain MacIntyre's ball grazed the side of his opponent, but failed to draw blood. That of Lovel was more true to the aim. MacIntyre reeled and fell. Raising himself on his arm, his first exclamation was: "It is nothing—it is nothing! Give us the other pistols!"
But the moment after he added in a lower tone: "I believe I have enough, and what's worse, I fear I deserve it. Mr. Lovel, or whatever your name is, fly and save yourself. Bear witness all of you, I alone provoked the quarrel."
Then raising himself on his arm, he added: "Shake hands, Lovel. I believe you to be a gentleman—forgive my rudeness, and I forgive you my death!"
Lovel stood dizzy and bewildered, while the ship's surgeon approached to do his part. But presently his arm was grasped by Edie, who hurried him off the field with the assistance of Lieutenant Taffril, his late second.
"He is right—he is right!" exclaimed Taffril, "go with him—there, into the wood—not by the highroad. Let him bring you to the sands at three of the morning. A boat will be in waiting to take you off to my brig, which will sail at once."
