One pistol only exploded, there was a faint puff of smoke, and Lord Maudlaine fell back in the woodland path; while with scorn, contempt, almost pity for the coward before him struggling for the mastery, Brace Norton, with his undischarged pistol in his hand, slowly walked up to where, pale, and with his face bathed in perspiration, Lord Maudlaine, who had fallen, half fainting with fear, gazed up at him with the most horrified aspect conceivable. "Would you murder me?" he gasped at last, as Brace, pistol in hand, stood over him. "Murder you!" said Brace scornfully. "No, my lord. You may rise. You challenged me to meet you, and I have received your fire. Your lordship is now probably content. I might try to make terms now, but I should be sorry to take so pitiful an advantage. There is your pistol, my lord. I wish you good day." Lord Maudlaine had risen as Brace addressed him, and mad with shame and confusion, he stood listening to his rival's words; but when Brace handed him the undischarged pistol by the butt, the old fiendish rage took possession of his soul, lending fire to his eye, and nerve to his arm. He took the weapon and held it to his side; but as Brace turned and walked down the path, he dashed after him. "Stop!" he cried, hoarsely; "not yet--you have not yet escaped!" when, as Brace turned, startled at the change that had come upon his rival, the young man's heart quailed for a few moments, for he was standing within six paces of the Viscount, who was taking deadly aim at his breast. Another second, and the aim might have proved mortal; but, as the pistol exploded, a heavy body seemed to dart from the bushes beside the Viscount, who was thrust aside, and the bullet grazed the bark of a huge beech-tree a dozen yards in advance. "Weel done, Peter, my lad!" cried a voice--"that was weel jumpit. Why, ye murderin' loon, to shute at an unairmed man like that; and is it the like of thee as is to have the Castle? Gude-sake, Maister Norton, dinna ye hold me. I could shock all the braith out of his coward's bodie, I could. Oh! ye may weel go," he cried, loudly, as the Viscount hurried away. "We saw it all, Mr Brace, Peter here and me; but not soon enow to stop the first shot. We saw him go doon, and for a wee my hairt was in my mooth, for I thocht ye'd kilt him. But that was a bonny leap of the lad's here, and disarrangit his aim, or, sir, I believe he'd have hit ye. But Sir Mooray shall know what a viper he's got under his roof before he's an hour older." "No, not a word--not a single hint of this must be given to him!" exclaimed Brace, firmly. "I will not win my way forward by such means. Mr McCray, I ask it as a favour: let this be all buried."