had scarce reached my ears when there came a sharp
pain at my throat, and the room faded before me. I heard the clock
striking the half-hour.

I was blessed with a sturdy health such as few men enjoy, and came to
myself sooner than had been looked for, with a dash of cold water. And
the first face I beheld was that of Colonel Washington. I heard him
speaking in a voice that was calm, yet urgent and commanding.

"I pray you, gentlemen, give back. He is coming to, and must have air.
Fetch some linen!"

"Now God be praised!" I heard Captain Daniel cry.

With that his Lordship began to tear his own shirt into strips, and the
captain bringing a bowl and napkin, the colonel himself washed the wound
and bound it deftly, Singleton and Captain Daniel assisting. When Mr.
Washington had finished, he turned to Comyn, who stood, anxious and
dishevelled, at my feet.

"You may be thankful that you missed the artery, my Lord," he said.

"With all my heart, Colonel Washington!" cried his Lordship. "I owe my
life to his generosity."

"What's that, sir?"

Mr. Carvel dropped his sword, rather than run me through."

"I'll warrant!" Captain Daniel put in; "'Od's heart! The lad has skill
to point the eye of a button. I taught him myself."

Colonel Washington stood up and laid his hand on the captain's arm.

"He is Jack Carvel over again," I heard him say, in a low voice.

I tried to struggle to my feet, to speak, but he restrained me. And
sending for his servants, he ordered them to have his baggage removed
from the Roebuck, which was the best bed in the house. At this moment
the door opened, and Mr. Swain came in hurriedly.

"I pray you, gentlemen," he cried, "and he is fit to be moved, you will
let me take him to Marlboro' Street. I have a chariot at the door."

CHAPTER XV. OF WHICH THE RECTOR HAS THE WORST

'Twas late when I awoke the next day with something of a dull ache in
my neck, and a prodigious stiffness, studying the pleatings of the bed
canopy over my head. And I know not how long I lay idly thus when I
perceived Mrs. Willis moving quietly about, and my grandfather sitting
in the armchair by the window, looking into Freshwater Lane. As my eyes
fell upon him my memory came surging back,--first of the duel, then
of its cause. And finally, like a leaden weight, the thought of the
deception I had practised upon him, of which he must have learned ere
this. Nay, I was sure from the troubled look of his face that