"my good Captain, let us pe loading
and measuring out--for, by my soul, if these sweetmeats be passing
between them, it is only the twa ends of a hankercher than can serve the
turn--Cot tamn!"

With such friendly intentions, the ground was hastily meted out. Each
was well known as an excellent shot; and the Captain offered a bet to
Jekyl of a mutchkin of Glenlivat, that both would fall by the first
fire. The event showed that he was nearly right; for the ball of Lord
Etherington grazed Mowbray's temple, at the very second of time when
Mowbray's pierced his heart. He sprung a yard from the ground, and fell
down a dead man. Mowbray stood fixed like a pillar of stone, his arm
dropped to his side, his hand still clenched on the weapon of death,
reeking at the touch-hole and muzzle. Jekyl ran to raise and support his
friend, and Captain MacTurk, having adjusted his spectacles, stooped on
one knee to look him in the face. "We should have had Dr. Quackleben
here," he said, wiping his glasses, and returning them to the shagreen
case, "though it would have been only for form's sake--for he is as dead
as a toor-nail, poor boy.--But come, Mowbray, my bairn," he said, taking
him by the arm, "we must be ganging our ain gait, you and me, before
waur comes of it.--I have a bit powney here, and you have your horse
till we get to Marchthorn.--Captain Jekyl, I wish you a good morning.
Will you have my umbrella back to the inn, for I surmeese it is going
to rain?"

Mowbray had not ridden a hundred yards with his guide and companion,
when he drew his bridle, and refused to proceed a step farther, till he
had learned what was become of Clara. The Captain began to find he had a
very untractable pupil to manage, when, while they were arguing
together, Touchwood drove past in his hack chaise. As soon as he
recognised Mowbray, he stopped the carriage to inform him that his
sister was at the Aultoun, which he had learned from finding there had
been a messenger sent from thence to the Well for medical assistance,
which could not be afforded, the Esculapius of the place, Dr.
Quackleben, having been privately married to Mrs. Blower on that
morning, by Mr. Chatterly, and having set out on the usual nuptial tour.

In return for this intelligence, Captain MacTurk communicated the fate
of Lord Etherington. The old man earnestly pressed instant flight, for
which he supplied at the same time ample means, engaging to furnish
every kind of assistance a