"Mr. Pilton must excuse me," I replied; "I was endeavoring to find the way to—" here I half uttered a rising falsehood. "I will satisfy him at another time of my innocence—I must now retire."
"Certainly, sir," said he, "you may retire, and rest in the shade of your victorious laurels; but remember—" and here his hollow voice increased in volume, and quivered with passion, "that if ever you again approach my sister in any shape or form, I will put you to death, even in her hallowed presence. I refused your foolish challenge; but there is a point beyond which prudence loses all its virtues, and the next time I chastise you for an insult to a sister, your blood shall write the record. Neither darkness shall conceal, cowardice protect, nor lunacy excuse you!"
I might have been more humbled by my own sense of degradation, but the last word was a talisman which awoke into frenzy the demoniac hate which had long rioted in my bosom; and approaching nearer to Pilton, I leaped at him, and grasped his throat with the fierceness of the tiger. He was better built, more athletic, and stronger than myself, and in the struggle that ensued, I found myself fast wasting away; yet I could hear his short and strangled breath laboring under the iron grasp of my fingers. He now drew a small knife, and began to cut the hand which held his throat. I felt the warm blood trickling over its relaxed strength; and releasing my hold, I sunk upon the ground. He instantly fell upon me; and after a long and violent scuffle, I succeeded in rescuing myself. We were again on our feet, and I now had time to draw a small dirk from my bosom. He was ignorant that I was armed; and approaching him, as he leaned breathless and exhausted against a tree, I struck him with the weapon just below his shoulder. He gave one groan, and reeled to the earth. I was about to repeat the blow, when a piercing shriek burst upon my ear,—and Ellen Pilton fell upon the body of her prostrate brother.
"Oh, God!" she cried, "kill him not—spare him!—take my life! Is it you, Lionel?" she screamed, as she looked up and recognized my features—"and would you murder my brother—you would not, dear Lionel."
I was silent.
"Go away—I loathe, I abhor, I hate you!"
Ere the first light of day had kissed the tranquil waters of the Chesapeake, my jaded horse was browzing on the fertile meadows of the Rappahannock, and I found a refuge on board the good ship "Tobacco Plant," Capt. Z., bound to London.