my hand, are not the ends of justice served as
well as if he died in the electric chair? And if I fall, the law may
still take its course."
Loge had listened to this speech attentively. He lifted his head and
glanced about the deck, filling his lungs with a deep draft of air.
Something like a gleam of hope was visible in his features.
"It is irregular," said Wilton Barnstable, frowning, and not half
convinced. "And, in the name of Heaven, why imperil your life
needlessly? Why expose yourself again to the power of this monstrous
criminal?"
"The fellow has challenged me, and I have granted him a meeting," said
Cleggett. "I hope there is such a thing as honor!"
"Clement!" It was Lady Agatha who spoke. As she did so she laid her
hand on Cleggett's arm. She had hearkened in silence to the colloquy
between him and Barnstable, as had the others. She drew him out of
sight and hearing behind the cabin.
"Clement," she said with agitation, "do not fight this man!"
"I must," he said simply. It cut him to the heart to refuse the first
request that she had asked of him since his avowal of his love for her
and her tacit acceptance. But, to a man of Cleggett's ideas, there was
no choice.
"Clement," she said in a low tone, "you have told me that you love me."
"Agatha!" he murmured brokenly.
"And you know----" she paused, as if she could not continue, but her
eyes and manner spoke the rest. In a moment her lips spoke it too; she
was not the sort of woman who is afraid to avow the promptings of her
heart. "You know," she said, "that I love you."
"Agatha!" he cried again. He could say no more.
"Oh, Clement," she said, "if you were killed--killed uselessly!--now
that I have found you, I could not bear it. Dear, I could not bear it!"
Cleggett was profoundly moved. He yearned to take her in his arms to
comfort her, and to promise anything she wished. And the thought came
to him too that, if he should perish, the one kiss, given and received
in the darkness and danger of fight and storm, would be all the brave
sweetness of her that he would know this side of the grave; the thought
came to him bitterly. For an instant he wavered.
"Agatha!" he said with dry lips. "I have already accepted the fellow's
challenge."
"And what of that?" she cried. "Would you cling to a barren point of
honor in despite of love?"
"Even so," he said, and sighed.
"Oh, Clement," she said, "I cannot bear it! I cannot b
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