“You designed to affront me!” said he; “it is well--it is a noble confession;--and wherefore? What do you propose to gain by it?--a man whose whole life is peace, you would provoke to outrage? Would there be triumph in this, or disgrace?--A man whom your uncle honours and loves, you would insult without cause--you would waylay--you would, after watching and creating your opportunity, entrap into defending himself. Is this worthy of that high spirit of which you boasted?--is this worthy a generous anger, or a noble hatred? Away! you malign yourself. I shrink from no quarrel--why should I? I have nothing to fear: my nerves are firm--my heart is faithful to my will; my habits may have diminished my strength, but it is yet equal to that of most men. As to the weapons of the world--they fall not to my use. I might be excused by the most punctilious, for rejecting what becomes neither my station nor my habits of life; but I learnt this much from books long since, ‘hold thyself prepared for all things:’--I am so prepared. And as I can command the spirit, I lack not the skill, to defend myself, or return the hostility of another.” As Aram thus said, he drew a pistol from his bosom; and pointed it leisurely towards a tree, at the distance of some paces. “Look,” said he, “you note that small discoloured and white stain in the bark--you can but just observe it;--he who can send a bullet through that spot, need not fear to meet the quarrel which he seeks to avoid.” Walter turned mechanically, and indignant, though silent, towards the tree. Aram fired, and the ball penetrated the centre of the stain. He then replaced the pistol in his bosom, and said:-- “Early in life I had many enemies, and I taught myself these arts. From habit, I still bear about me the weapons I trust and pray I may never have occasion to use. But to return.--I have offended you--I have incurred your hatred--why? What are my sins?” “Do you ask the cause?” said Walter, speaking between his ground teeth. “Have you not traversed my views--blighted my hopes--charmed away from me the affections which were more to me than the world, and driven me to wander from my home with a crushed spirit, and a cheerless heart. Are these no cause for hate?” “Have I done this?” said Aram, recoiling, and evidently and powerfully affected. “Have I so injured you?--It is true! I know it--I perceive it--I read your heart; and--bear witness Heaven!--I felt for the wound that I, but with no guilty hand, inflict upon you. Yet be just:--ask yourself, have I done aught that you, in my case, would have left undone? Have I been insolent in triumph, or haughty in success? if so, hate me, nay, spurn me now.” Walter turned his head irresolutely away.