They hitched their horses, and Erskine followed into a pleasant glade--a
grassy glade through which murmured a little stream. Erskine dropped the
rapiers on the sward.
"Take your choice," he said.
"There is none," said Grey, picking up the one nearer to him. "I know
them both." Grey took off his coat while Erskine waited. Grey made the
usual moves of courtesy and still Erskine waited, wonderingly, with the
point of the rapier on the ground.
"When you are ready," he said, "will you please let me know?"
"Ready!" answered Grey, and he lunged forward. Erskine merely whipped at
his blade so that the clang of it whined on the air to the
breaking-point and sprang backward. He was as quick as an eyelash and
lithe as a panther, and yet Grey almost laughed aloud. All Erskine did
was to whip the thrusting blade aside and leap out of danger like a
flash of light. It was like an inexpert boxer flailing according to
rules unknown--and Grey's face flamed and actually turned anxious. Then,
as a kindly fate would have it, Erskine's blade caught in Grey's guard
by accident, and the powerful wrist behind it seeking merely to wrench
the weapon loose tore Grey's rapier from his grasp and hurled it ten
feet away. There is no greater humiliation for the expert swordsman, and
not for nothing had Erskine suffered the shame of that long-ago day when
a primitive instinct had led him to thrusting his knife into this same
enemy's breast. Now, with his sword's point on the earth, he waited
courteously for Grey to recover his weapon.
Again a kindly fate intervened. Even as Grey rushed for his sword,
Erskine heard the beat of horses' hoofs. As he snatched it from the
ground and turned, with a wicked smile over his grinding teeth, came
Harry's shout, and as he rushed for Erskine, Colonel Dale swung from his
horse. The sword-blades clashed, Erskine whipping back and forth in a
way to make a swordsman groan--and Colonel Dale had Erskine by the wrist
and was between them.
"How dare you, sir?" cried Grey hotly.
"Just a moment, young gentleman," said Colonel Dale calmly.
"Let us alone, Uncle Harry--I----"
"Just a moment," repeated the colonel sternly. "Mr. Grey, do you think
it quite fair that you with your skill should fight a man who knows
nothing about foils?"
"There was no other way," Grey said sullenly.
"And you could not wait, I presume?" Grey did not answer.
"Now, hear what I have to say, and if you both do not agree, the matter
will be arranged to your entire satisfaction, Mr. Grey. I have but one
question to ask. Your country is at war. She needs every man for her
defense. Do you not both think your lives belong to your country and
that it is selfish and unpatriotic just now to risk them in any other
cause?" He waited for his meaning to sink in, and sink it did.
[Illustration: The sword blades clashed, Erskine whipping back and
forth in a way to make a swordsman groan]
"Colonel Dale, your nephew grossly insulted me, and your daughter showed
me the door. I made no defense to him nor to her, but I will to you. I
merely repeated what I had been told and I believed it true. Now that I
hear it is not true, I agree with you, sir, and I am willing to express
my regrets and apologies."
"That is better," said Colonel Dale heartily, and he turned to Erskine,
but Erskine was crying hotly:
"And I express neither."
"Very well," sneered Grey coldly. "Perhaps we may meet when your
relatives are not present to protect you."
"Uncle Harry----" Erskine implored, but Grey was turning toward his horse.
"After all, Colonel Dale is right."
"Yes," assented Erskine helplessly, and then--"it is possible that we
shall not always be on the same side."
"So I thought," returned Grey with lifted eyebrows, "when I heard what I
did about you!" Both Harry and Hugh had to catch Erskine by an arm then,
and they led him struggling away. Grey mounted his horse, lifted his
hat, and was gone. Colonel Dale picked up the swords.
"Now," he said, "enough, of all this--let it be forgotten."
And he laughed.
"You'll have to confess, Erskine--he has a quick tongue and you must
think only of his temptation to use it."
Erskine did not answer.
As they rode back Colonel Dale spoke of the war. It was about to move
into Virginia, he said, and when it did---- Both Harry and Hugh
interrupted him with a glad shout:
"We can go!" Colonel Dale nodded sadly.
Suddenly all pulled their horses in simultaneously and raised their
eyes, for all heard the coming of a horse in a dead run. Around a
thicketed curve of the road came Barbara, with her face white and her
hair streaming behind her. She pulled her pony in but a few feet in
front of them, with her burning eyes on Erskine alone.
"Have you killed him--have you killed him? If you have--" She stopped
helpless, and all were so amazed that none could answer. Erskine shook
his head. There was a flash of relief in the girl's white face, its
recklessness gave way to sudden shame, and, without a word, she wheeled
and was away again--Harry flying after her. No one spoke. Colonel Dale
looked aghast and Erskine's heart again turned sick.