ny:
"You were not afraid to fire at a poor boy in the water," said I,
"though you do not like to stand a shot in return. Come, come, take
your ground, be a man, stand up, don't be afraid."

"For myself," said Talbot, with a firm and placid resignation of
countenance, "I have no fears; but for you, Frank, I have great cause
of alarm:" so saying, he snatched up the loaded pistol which I threw
down to him.

We had no seconds; nor was there any person in sight. It was a bright
moonlight, and we walked to the water's edge, where the reflux of the
tide had left the sand firm to the tread. Here we stood back to back.
The usual distance was fourteen paces. Talbot refused to measure his,
but stood perfectly still. I walked ten paces, and turned round,
"Ready," said I in a low voice.

We both raised our arms; but Talbot, instantly dropping the muzzle of
his pistol, said, "I cannot fire at the brother of Clara."

"I can at her insulter," answered I; and, taking deliberate aim,
fired, and my ball entered his side. He bounded, gave a half turn
round in the air, and fell on his face to the ground.

How sudden are the transitions of the human mind! how close does
remorse follow the gratification of revenge! The veil dropped from my
eyes; I saw in an instant the false medium, the deceitful vision which
had thus allured me into what the world calls "an affair of honour."
"Honour," good heaven! had made me a murderer, and the voice of my
brother's blood cried out for vengeance.

The manly and athletic form, which one minute before excited my most
malignant hatred, when now prostrate and speechless, became an object
of frantic affection. I ran to Talbot, and when it was too late
perceived the mischief I had done. Murder, cruelty, injustice, and,
above all, the most detestable ingratitude, flashed at once into
my overcrowded imagination. I turned the body round, and tried to
discover if there were any signs of life. A small stream of blood ran
from his side, and, about two feet from him, was lost in the absorbing
sand; while from the violence of his fall the sand had filled his
mouth and nostrils. I cleaned them out; and, staunching the wound with
my handkerchief, for the blood flowed copiously at every respiration,
I sat on the sea-shore by his side, supporting him in my arms. I only
exclaimed, "Would to God the shark, the poison, the sword of the
enemy, or the precipice of Trinidad had destroyed me before this fatal
hour."

Tal