suggestion.
"You know that that is irregular--that a charge of murder would lie
against the survivor."

"Oh, quite so. But it is for your own convenience that I suggest it,
though I appreciate your considerate concern on the score of what may
happen to me afterwards should it come to be known that I was your
opponent."

"Afterwards? After what?"

"After I have killed you."

"And is it like that?" cried O'Moy, his countenance inflaming again, his
mind casting all prudence to the winds.

It followed, of course, that without further thought for anything but
the satisfaction of his rage Sir Terence became as wax in the hands of
Samoval's desires.

"Where do you suggest that we meet?" he asked.

"There is my place at Bispo. We should be private in the gardens there.
As for time, the sooner the better, though for secrecy's sake we had
better meet at night. Shall we say at midnight?"

But Sir Terence would agree to none of this.

"To-night is out of the question for me. I have an engagement that will
keep me until late. To-morrow night, if you will, I shall be at your
service." And because he did not trust Samoval he added, as Samoval
himself had almost reckoned: "But I should prefer not to come to Bispo.
I might be seen going or returning."

"Since there are no such scruples on my side, I am ready to come to you
here if you prefer it."

"It would suit me better."

"Then expect me promptly at midnight to-morrow, provided that you
can arrange to admit me without my being seen. You will perceive my
reasons."

"Those gates will be closed," said O'Moy, indicating the now gaping
massive doors that closed the archway at night. "But if you knock I
shall be waiting for you, and I will admit you by the wicket."

"Excellent," said Samoval suavely. "Then--until to-morrow night,
General." He bowed with almost extravagant submission, and turning
walked sharply away, energy and suppleness in every line of his slight
figure, leaving Sir Terence to the unpleasant, almost desperate,
thoughts that reflection must usher in as his anger faded.

CHAPTER XII. THE DUEL

It was a time of stress and even of temptation for Sir Terence. Honour
and pride demanded that he should keep the appointment made with
Samoval; common sense urged him at all costs to avoid it. His frame of
mind, you see, was not at all enviable. At moments he would consider
his position as adjutant-general, the enactment against duelling, the
irregula