horse's head, and further on, they saw three men waiting for them-Captain Hertford, Captain Jackson, and the doctor.

They hurried forward. Captain Jackson and Austin went apart, and matters were soon arranged. "We must be quick, Elliot," said Captain Jackson.

They were very quick. The men were placed twelve paces apart, back to back, and their seconds gave them their pistols. Captain Jackson was to give the word. Austin and he retired, and Captain Jackson said, "Gentlemen, are you ready? Fire!"

They both faced one another at the same instant. Charles Barty raised his hand high over his head, and fired in the air. Captain Hertford took deliberate aim, and fired two seconds afterwards. The instant he had done so, Lord Charles leapt a foot off the ground, and then bringing his heels sharply down upon the turf, toppled over headlong on his left shoulder, and lay perfectly still.

Austin was beside him in an instant, but he was quite dead. Austin turned the heavy head over, and saw the last sign of life which appeared in that beautiful face. Two nerves in the hollows beneath his eyes quivered and throbbed for half a second, and then stopped for ever.

If I were to pile Pelion upon Ossa with grand words, I could give you no idea of the catastrophe more terrible than this. Lord Charles Barty was shot through the heart, and was lying, stone-dead, at the feet of Austin Elliot.

CHAPTER VIII.

AUSTIN had never seen death before. This was his first introduction to it. He was holding the face of the dead man between his two hands, and looking down with a strange incredulous terror into the sightless eyes.

And the dead man was his friend, a man he loved as David loved Jonathan. He had never done anything or thought anything, for he knew not how long, without this man coming into his mind. "What will he think about it?" "What will he say about it?" had always been his first thought after he had done anything. Now, now

The two others were with him in a moment. Captain Hertford said, "This has all been fair. I am off for France." Jackson broke out into tears. "By God," he said, "this is a most horrible busi

ness! I wish he had struck me dead before I came out on this accursed errand!" But Austin said nothing. He was kneeling on one knee, with the dead man's face between his hands, and a claw like that of an eagle, griping at his heart.

"We must get away," said Captain Hertford. "We had best be quick. Elliot, you will have to come with us.”

"I shall stay where I am."

"You are mazed," said Captain Hertford, impatiently. "We shall be in trouble for this. Time is precious. You must cross with my passport."

"I tell you I shall stay where I am," said Austin, looking up at Hertford with that painful look of mingled terror and anger which Captain Hertford had seen before, and which he now remembered.

"Then I have done my duty and must go," said Captain Hertford. "Jackson, we must make haste." They left him kneeling at the dead man's head. In a few moments Jackson ran back, while Captain Hertford waited for him.

"Elliot, don't be a madman. Come away. There will be the devil to pay for this, God forgive us! You must come with us. You shall!"

"I shall stay here."

"You are mad! Think better of it and come with

us. Your mind is gone!"

"I know it is. Good-bye."

So Captain Jackson went reluctantly away, and left Austin with the dead man.

Lord Charles's groom came next. He touched Austin on the shoulder. "Mr. Elliot," he said, "is

my lord wounded?"

Austin looked up in his face and said, "Your lord is dead!" He saw the man turn pale and sick. Then he saw him kneel down beside what had been Lord Charles, and untie the dead man's neckcloth. Then he opened his shirt and felt his heart. And lastly, by some strange instinct, he closed the dull staring eyes, which were never to open again. Then the two stood silent for a time.

"What is to be done now, sir?" said the groom at last.

"Done!

"What is to be done?" said Austin. says he? Why, bring him to life again, and let me lie there dead and cold in his place. We have been hardly used, Tom. There is no mercy in Heaven, Tom; or, if there is, it is all kept for those who whine and cringe, and I have never done that, nor has this dead man. What have he and I done that