idently relied upon
his aim, that he thought he had seen De Guiche fall; his astonishment
was extreme when he saw that he still remained erect in his saddle. He
hastened to fire his second shot, but his hand trembled, and he killed
the horse instead. It would be a most fortunate chance for him if De
Guiche were to remain held fast under the animal. Before he could have
freed himself, De Wardes would have loaded his pistol and had De Guiche
at his mercy. But De Guiche, on the contrary, was up, and had three
shots to fire. He immediately understood the position of affairs. It
would be necessary to exceed De Wardes in rapidity of execution. He
advanced, therefore, so as to reach him before he should have had time
to reload his pistol. De Wardes saw him approaching like a tempest. The
ball was rather tight, and offered some resistance to the ramrod. To
load it carelessly would be to expose himself to lose his last chance;
to take the proper care in loading it would be to lose his time, or
rather it would be throwing away his life. He made his horse bound on
one side. De Guiche turned round also, and, at the moment the horse was
quiet again, he fired, and the ball carried off De Wardes' hat from his
head. De Wardes now knew that he had a moment's time at his own
disposal; he availed himself of it in order to finish loading his
pistol. De Guiche, noticing that his adversary did not fall, threw the
pistol he had just discharged aside, and walked straight toward De
Wardes, elevating the second pistol as he did so. He had hardly
proceeded more than two or three paces, when De Wardes took aim at him
as he was walking, and fired. An exclamation of anger was De Guiche's
answer; the comte's arm contracted and dropped motionless by his side,
and the pistol fell from his grasp. De Wardes observed the comte stoop
down, pick up the pistol with his left hand, and again advance toward
him. His anxiety was excessive. "I am lost," murmured De Wardes, "he is
not mortally wounded." At the very moment, however, that De Guiche was
about to raise his pistol against De Wardes, the head, shoulders and
limbs of the comte seemed all to give way. He heaved a deep-drawn sigh,
tottered, and fell at the feet of De Wardes' horse.

"That is all right," said De Wardes; and, gathering up the reins, he
struck his spurs into his horse's sides. The horse cleared the comte's
motionless body, and bore De Wardes rapidly back to the chateau. When he
arrived there,