face,
to leave it of a sickly green hue, his jaw fell, his hand trembled
visibly, and his knees shook beneath him; for, in spite of his
management, Lord Maudlaine was at his opponent's mercy: he had carefully
charged one pistol only with ball, and, in his agitation, he had let
that weapon pass into his rival's hand, while his own contained but a
blank charge.

The Viscount's aspect was truly pitiable, and for a moment it was in his
heart to beg for mercy; but, as if mechanically, he faced his rival, and
with the dread upon him that his treachery would be discovered, he
prepared to fire.

Guilt requires no accusers: he could not think then to say that his
pistol was not fully charged--he could not see that he had a generous
enemy to deal with. He measured his adversary by himself; and, feeling
that his last hour had come, he prepared to fire.

"Will your lordship give the signal--the dropping of a handkerchief?"
said Brace. "We have no seconds to take the duty."

"No! You!" gasped the Viscount; and Brace gazed wonderingly at the
pitiable fear evinced by his opponent, who had nerved himself into
standing upright, and now retained his position in almost a cataleptic
state.

Brace drew forth a white handkerchief, and then with his pistol covered
his adversary--the man whom his heart told him a careful aim would
remove from his path for ever.

"At the word _three_," said Brace, calmly; and then, after a pause,
"One--two--three!"

One pistol only exploded, there was a faint puff of smoke, and Lord
Maudlaine fell back in the woodland path; while with scorn, contempt,
almost pity for the coward before him struggling for the mastery, Brace
Norton, with his undischarged pistol in his hand, slowly walked up to
where, pale, and with his face bathed in perspiration, Lord Maudlaine,
who had fallen, half fainting with fear, gazed up at him with the most
horrified aspect conceivable.

"Would you murder me?" he gasped at last, as Brace, pistol in hand,
stood over him.

"Murder you!" said Brace scornfully. "No, my lord. You may rise. You
challenged me to meet you, and I have received your fire. Your lordship
is now probably content. I might try to make terms now, but I should be
sorry to take so pitiful an advantage. There is your pistol, my lord.
I wish you good day."

Lord Maudlaine had risen as Brace addressed him, and mad with shame and
confusion, he stood listening to his rival's words; but when Brace
handed