influence of the June evening tide, and longed to be at rest-in his grave if need were-to be anywhere but where he was. Feeling no fear, but a mixture of grief, remorse, and horror difficult to bear, preserving reason at the same time.

While in this frame of mind, he passed near a mill and out into a meadow, and there was the author of all this misery and woe before him. In less than ten minutes he was standing cool and calm, face to face with him, with a loaded pistol in his hand. Surely Hertford's day of reckoning was Not yet.

come.

Austin had no more intention of firing his pistol at Captain Hertford, than he had of blowing out his own brains. The last affair had been, as Captain Hertford said, so horrid, that Austin was determined that he would never again have any hand in a repetition of such a thing, unless he himself were the victim. So when Captain Hertford had fired, and he heard the ball whistle close by his head, he turned coolly away and fired at a piece of rock among the copse on the right of the meadow.

But Captain Hertford insisted upon another shot; and this brought on a general wrangle, during which it became painfully evident that the gallant captain

had been drinking. There was nothing to be done but to place the men again, it seemed. This time Austin again fired away to the right, and, luckily for himself, was very slightly grazed on the leg. The affair was, of course, instantly stopped. Austin had fought his first and last duel. He had satisfied every requirement that the most punctilious bully could make. He had hunted Captain Hertford over the Continent till he had found him, had had him out, and had been unluckily wounded by him. He appealed to the three others; they confirmed him. Jackson said that he would take care that everything should be known in London on his return, and Austin limped off back to Ems, somewhat lighter in heart than before. He had faced one of his troubles successfully; his reputation was secure again; he could look a man in the face; he had made due pilgrimage to the outraged idol, honour, and had done sacrifice. The god was slightly in his debt-or, at all events, things were about square between them. This was, so far, satisfactory. He knew (who better?) that this fetish he had been taught to worship, was a cruel and vindictive demon; but, like a true idolater, he believed that, by overloading his idol with sacrifices, he might lay it under obligations, and, so to speak, have a case

against it, a case which, under some sort of law, would hold good, and must be attended to.

"Was it for this," says the old nigger in that most beautiful book, "The Cruise of the Midge," after he had pitched his idol into the lee scuppers in his wrath, "was it for this that I gave you chicken, and stick fedder in your tail-eh?" He, like Austin, had a strong case against his fetish.

CHAPTER IX.

AUSTIN made his appearance in due time at his attorney's office in Lincoln's Inn.' The clerks looked very grave, and one of them showed him into the presence of the old man. Austin saw him rise hurriedly and turn pale when he appeared; Austin shook him warmly by the hand.

"So you have come back," said the attorney, "Ah, foolish, foolish boy. How I have hoped and prayed that you might be too late. But stay; there is time. My dear Austin, let me beg you on my knees, for the sake of your good name and your father's memory, to go back to France this night. Think that in three days it will be too late for ever."

"I cannot, old friend, in honour. The wrong I have done to the law shall be punished by the law. Say no more about it.'

The old man said no more. He did not hide from

Austin that he feared a conviction; that he hardly knew how it was to be avoided.

"God's will be done. You feel sure of a con

viction?"

"Almost."

"The jury acquitted P last March," suggested Austin.*

"In direct opposition to Erle's summing up," said the old man, eagerly. "And why? Because they believed that it was Liston's operation which killed S, and not H's bullet. That is why. They gave him the benefit of that doubt because-because —well, because their sympathies went with P—. They considered him blameless-only a young fellow who had done what fifty others had done before him; gone out with his friend."

"And their sympathies will not be with me, then?" said Austin.

"No," said the old man steadily. "If it kills me to say so to your father's son, I will say it. This duel has been talked about a great deal. Lord Charles Barty was a young man of great promise, and the newspapers have written leading articles about it. It has made a great stir in London. But all ranks and

* Referring to the Gosport duel.