"For myself," said Talbot, with a firm and placid resignation of countenance, "I have no fears; but for you, Frank, I have great cause of alarm:" so saying, he snatched up the loaded pistol, which I threw down to him. We had no seconds; nor was there any person in sight. It was a bright moonlight, and we walked to the water's edge, where the reflux of the tide had left the sand firm to the tread. Here we stood back to back. The usual distance was fourteen paces. Talbot refused to measure his, but stood perfectly still. I walked ten paces, and turned round. "Ready," said I, in a low voice. We both raised our arms; but Talbot, instantly dropping the muzzle of his pistol, said, "I cannot fire at the brother of Clara!" "I can at her insulter," answered I; and, taking deliberate aim, fired, and my ball entered his side. He bounded, gave a half-turn round in the air, and fell on his face to the ground. How sudden are the transitions of the human mind! how close does remorse follow the gratification of revenge! The veil dropped from my eyes; I saw in an instant the false medium, the deceitful vision, which had thus allured me into what the world calls "an affair of honour." "Honour," good Heaven! had made me a murderer, and the voice of my brother's blood cried out for vengeance. The manly and athletic form, which one minute before excited my most malignant hatred, when now prostrate and speechless became an object of frantic affection. I ran to Talbot, and when it was too late perceived the mischief I had done. Murder, cruelty, injustice, and, above all, the most detestable ingratitude, flushed at once into my over-crowded imagination. I turned the body round, and tried to discover if there were any signs of life. A small stream of blood ran from his side, and, about two feet from him, was lost in the absorbing sand; while from the violence of his fall the sand had filled his mouth and nostrils. I cleaned them out; and stanching the wound with my handkerchief, for the blood flowed copiously at every respiration, I sat on the sea-shore by his side, supporting him in my arms. I only exclaimed, "Would to God the shark, the poison, the sword of the enemy, or the precipice of Trinidad, had destroyed me before this fatal hour!" Talbot opened his languid eyes, and fixed them on me with a glassy stare; but he did not speak. Suddenly recollection seemed for a moment to return--he recognised me, and, O God! his look of kindness pierced my heart. He made several efforts to speak, and at last said, in broken accents, and at long and painful intervals. "Look at letter--writing-desk--read all--explain--God bless--" His head fell back, and he was dead!