"We are of an unfortunate house," said Rose Lyndwood, smiling at his brother. Then he followed his wife and closed the door after him. Susannah lifted her hands to her forehead; it seemed to her that she dragged them painfully through air grown unsupportably heavy. "What is this duel?" she asked, with stiff lips. "With Sir Francis," he answered. "I did not want you to know. There is nothing to be done." "You were to be his second?" "Yes." "And--and now?" "You heard." She rose. The dim lamplight felt a weight upon her eyes. "I had no business to ask you to hold back, Marius," she said dully. "Women should not interfere." He made no answer. His head drooped a little on his breast, his eyes were cast down. "But I could not bear it," continued Susannah. "That must be my excuse. I could not bear"--she stressed the words passionately--"to see you draw your sword on him; but I was wrong. It was unjust to you." "He has done with me," said Marius, without raising his head. "But when you whispered to me, when I saw--understood, I decided, and I am glad." "I cannot thank you," answered Susannah, "nor say what I should." He glanced up. "No. You think of this duel to-morrow." She pressed her hand to her quivering mouth. "You are right to speak so to me." "No--no, forgive me--forgive me!" Susannah did not seem to hear. "Where do they meet?" "The Park--as soon as it is light." He jerked the words out awkwardly. "My lord was engaged all yesterday." "It is on Selina's account," murmured Susannah, in a colourless voice. "Well, he is a good swordsman." Marius looked at her quickly; the Earl had chosen pistols. She roused herself dully. "Will you take me home? It is getting late. We must be glad Lavinia hath returned." She fixed her distracted eyes on Marius. "Shall we tell my lady, or--suppose they brought him home as his father was brought?" "He hath been in duels before." "But this is no fencing bout!" A sudden horror sprang into her voice. "Marius, this is not with pistols?" He could not lie to her; his silence was answer and confirmation. She did not speak. "I could do no more!" he cried, goaded by her face. "I let him strike me because of you. His blood is not on my sword, nor mine on his. As for this, it is not for his honour to interfere." Susannah moved blindly across the room. "She hath done it--she, with her lies." A sharp silence fell. They could hear the rain beating without; the creeper was tapping against the window, and presently the Abbey clock chimed ten. "Somehow we must put the hours through," murmured Susannah, "until----" Her voice died away. "I will take you home," said Marius hoarsely. "Home!" she repeated; her eyes filled with tears, and sought his. What was between them could not be expressed by any words, but that one look expressed it all. She rose. "Yes," she said. "We will go home." CHAPTER XIV THE DUEL