d
smaller trees just beyond the ridge of rising ground towards which his
gun had been directed. The head only of this man could have been visible
from the side of the bank on which Brian was standing; and even the head
could be seen very indistinctly. As Brian fired, it seemed to him,
curiously enough, as if another report rang in his ears beside that of
his own gun. Was any one else shooting in the wood? Or had his senses
played him false in the horror of the moment, and caused him to mistake
an echo for another shot? He had not time to settle the question. For a
moment he stood transfixed; then he rushed forward, but Archie had been
before him. The young man was kneeling by the prostrate form and as
Brian advanced, he looked up with a face as white as death.

"Keep back," he cried, scarcely knowing what he said. "Don't look--don't
look, for a moment; perhaps he'll open his eyes: perhaps he is not dead.
Keep back!"

Dead! Brian never forgot the sick feeling of dread which then came over
him. What had he done? He did not hear Archie's excited words; he came
hurriedly to the side of the man, who lay lifeless upon the ground with
his head on the young fellow's knee. Archie looked up at him with
dilated terrified eyes. And Brian stood stock still.

It was Richard who lay before him, dead as a stone. He had dropped
without a cry, perhaps even without a pang. There was a little purple
mark upon his temple, from which a drop of black blood had oozed. A
half-smile still lingered on his mouth; his face had scarcely changed
colour, his attitude was natural, and yet the spectators felt that Death
had set his imprint on that tranquil brow. Richard Luttrell's day was
over; he had gone to a world where he might perhaps stand in need of
that mercy which he had been only too ready to deny to others who had
erred.

Archie's elder brother, Donald Grant, and the keeper were hurrying to
the spot. They found Brian on his knees beside the body, feeling with
trembling hands for the pulse that beat no longer. His face was the
colour of ashes, but as yet he had not uttered a single word. Donald
Grant spoke first, with an anxious glance towards his brother.

"How----" he began, and then stopped short, for Archie had silenced him
with an almost imperceptible sign towards Brian Luttrell.

"We heard two shots," muttered Donald, as he also bent over the
prostrate form.

"Only one, I think," said Archie.

His brother pulled him aside.

"