It seemed
brave, and what a man would do, what a southerner would do. He was an
Englishman, and so it looked still more brave in him. He went to the man's
rooms and offered him a chance for his life by a duel. He had brought
revolvers. He turned the key in the door and then laid the pistols he had
brought on the table. Without warning the other snatched up a small sword
and stabbed him with it. He managed to get one of the revolvers, fired,
and brought the man down. The man was not killed, but it was a long time
before he--Mark Telford there--was well again. When he got up, the girl"--
"Poor girl!"
"When he got up the girl was married to the cousin who had periled his
life for her. It was madness, but it was so."
Here she paused. The silence seemed oppressive. Hagar, divining her
thought, got up, went to the archway between the rooms and asked the young
girl to play something. It helped him, he said, when he was thinking how
to paint. He went back.
Mrs. Detlor continued. "But it was a terrible mistake. There was a
valuable property in England which the cousin knew she could get by
proving certain things. The marriage was to him a speculation. When she
waked to that--it was a dreadful awakening--she refused to move in the
matter.
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