"Shall be a shout from me," answered Bowen; "we'll give you ten minutes to load your weapon and bid your friend good-by, for if Mr. Horton's anything as good a shot as I take him for, there ain't much chance of your seeing the Britisher again!" The two men disappeared amongst the foliage, and the friends were alone. "Miss Leslie knows nothing of this duel, I suppose?" said Mortimer, busy loading the carbine. "Nothing!" answered Gilbert. "Poor girl, I allowed her to believe that, for her sake, I had renounced all thought of vengeance upon the man who had insulted her!" "Perhaps that's the wisest thing you could have done; for however this affair may terminate, I fear it will be a troublesome business for you. Men's minds are strangely excited just now; the Southern blood is up, and should you escape safe and sound from this duel, I doubt but you will have to secure the protection of the British consul to save you from the fury of the populace. Once sheltered by the dreaded flag of old England, neither North nor South dare touch a hair of your head; for if they should assail you, it would be the kindling of such a storm as would blot the stars and stripes of America from the universe." "When a man sees a woman he loves insulted by a coward, he does not stop to reason," answered Gilbert; "the only thing that distresses me in this matter, is the thought that, instead of protecting my adored Cora, I have only brought upon her new dangers. You are the only man in America whom I call my friend. You have already given me such powerful proofs of your friendship, that I think I may venture to demand of you one last service." "Speak, Gilbert, speak. We have indeed been fast and faithful friends; to-night, above all other nights, I can refuse you nothing." "Listen, then. My first care on leaving the Selma, was to engage a boat, which is to carry us back to Lake Pontchartrain this very night. Promise me, that if I fall, you will yourself protect Cora, and restore her to her father's arms?" "I promise," answered Mortimer, fervently. "Thanks, thanks!" The two men shook hands, both too much affected for many words. "But tell me, Gilbert," said Mortimer Percy, after a pause, "what was Miss Leslie's motive for coming to Iberville?" "Her mother died here. She comes to pay her first visit to the lonely grave of Francilia, the quadroon." "Ah! I understand. Poor girl, poor girl!" "I left her with the mulatto, Toby, who was to conduct her to the spot. At ten o'clock she will return to the landing-place on the river, where the boat will wait for us." "Enough," said Mortimer, in a voice broken by emotion, "whatever happens I will be there to protect her." At this moment a loud shout resounded through the stillness of the forest scene. It was the signal.