fted with natural
courage had needs have a good cause, and confidence in the weapon to be
used. Florence Kearney possessed all three; and though it was his first
appearance in a duel, he had no fear for the result. Even the still,
sombre scene, with the long grey moss hanging down from the dark cypress
trees, like the drapery of a hearse, failed to inspire him with dread.
If, at times, a slight nervousness came over him, it was instantly
driven off by the thought of the insult he had received--and, perhaps
also, a little by the remembrance of those dark eyes he fancied would
flash proudly if he triumphed, and weep bitterly were he to suffer
discomfiture. Very different were his feelings now from those he
experienced less than forty-eight hours before, when he was on his way
to the house of Don Ignacio Valverde. That night, before leaving it, he
was good as sure he possessed the heart of Don Ignacio's daughter.
Indeed, she had all but told him so; and was this not enough to nerve
him for the encounter near at hand?

Very near now--close to commencing. The rumbling of wheels heard
through the drooping festoonery of the trees, proclaimed that a second
carriage was approaching along the Shell Road. It could only be that
containing the antagonists. And it was that. In less than ten minutes
after, it drew up on the causeway, about twenty paces to the rear of the
one already arrived. Two men got out, who, although wrapped in cloaks
and looking as large as giants through the thick mist, could be
recognised as Carlos Santander and his second. There was a third
individual, who, like the young surgeon, remained by the carriage--no
doubt a doctor, too,--making the duelling party symmetrical and
complete.

Santander and his friend having pulled off their cloaks and tossed them
back into the carriage, turned towards the wet ditch, and also leaped
over it.

The first performed the feat somewhat awkwardly, drooping down upon the
further bank with a ponderous thud. He was a large, heavily built man--
altogether unlike one possessing the activity necessary for a good
swordsman.

His antagonist might have augured well from his apparent clumsiness, but
for what he had heard of him. For Carlos Santander, though having the
repute of a swaggerer, with some suspicion of cowardice, had proved
himself a dangerous adversary by twice killing his man. His second--a
French-Creole, called Duperon--enjoyed a similar reputation, he, t