and pried the solid shutter from its fastenings. Then, gathering
our courage, we went in again at the door. In the dim light let into the
farther room we saw a four-poster bed, old and cheap, with ragged
curtains. It was this that I had struck in my groping.

"The chief killed Cram there," said Nick, in an awed voice, "in that bed.
What do you want to do here, Davy?"

"Wait," I said, though I had as little mind to wait as ever in my life.
"Stand here by the window."

We waited there. The mist rose. The sun peeped over the bank of dense
green forest and spread rainbow colors on the still waters of the river.
Now and again a fish broke, or a great bird swooped down and slit the
surface. A far-off snatch of melody came to our ears,--the slaves were
going to work. Nothing more. And little by little grave misgivings
gnawed at my soul of the wisdom of coming to this place. Doubtless there
were many other spots.

"Davy," said Nick, at last, "I'm sorry I took that money. What are we
here for?"

"Hush!" I whispered; "do you hear anything?"

I did, and distinctly. For I had been brought up in the forest.

"I hear voices," he said presently, "coming this way."

They were very clear to me by then. Emerging from the forest path were
five gentlemen. The leader, more plainly dressed than the others,
carried a leather case. Behind him was the stout figure of Mr. Darnley,
his face solemn; and last of all came Mr. Harry Riddle, very pale, but
cutting the tops of the long grass with a switch. Nick seized my arm.

"They are going to fight," said he.

"Yes," I replied, "and we are here to stop them, now."

"No, not now," he said, holding me still. "We'll have some more fun out
of this yet."

"Fun?" I echoed.

"Yes," he said excitedly. "Leave it to me. I shan't let them fight."

And that instant we changed generals, David giving place to Nicholas.

Mr. Riddle retired with one gentleman to a side of the little patch of
grass, and Mr. Darnley and a friend to another. The fifth gentleman took
a position halfway between the two, and, opening the leather case, laid
it down on the grass, where its contents glistened.

"That's Dr. Ball," whispered Nick. And his voice shook with excitement.

Mr. Riddle stripped off his coat and waistcoat and ruffles, and his
sword-belt, and Mr. Darnley did the same. Both gentlemen drew their
swords and advanced to the middle of the lawn, and stood opposite one
another, with flowing linen shirts