Then Sir George, his left forearm under the other's chin, flung him

three paces away; and shifting his sword into his right hand--hitherto

he had been unable to change it--he stopped Dunborough's savage rush

with the point, and beat him off and kept him off--parrying his lunges,

and doing his utmost the while to avoid dealing him a fatal wound. Soane

was so much the better swordsman--as was immediately apparent to all

the onlookers--that he no longer feared for himself; all his fears were

for his opponent, the fire and fury of whose attacks he could not

explain to himself, until he found them flagging; and flagging so fast

that he sought a reason. Then Dunborough's point beginning to waver, and

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his feet to slip, Sir George's eyes were opened; he discerned a crimson

patch spread and spread on the other's side--where unnoticed Dunborough

had kept his hand--and with a cry for help he sprang forward in time to

catch the falling man in his arms.

As the others ran in, the surgeons quickly and silently, Lord Almeric

more slowly, and with exclamations, Sir George lowered his burden gently

to the ground. The instant it was done, Morris touched his arm and

signed to him to stand back. 'You can do no good, Sir George,' he urged.

'He is in skilful hands. He would have it; it was his own fault. I can

bear witness that you did your best not to touch him.' 'I did not touch him,' Soane muttered.

The second looked his astonishment. 'How?' he said. 'You don't mean to

say that he is not wounded? See there!' And he pointed to the blood

which dyed the shirt. They were cutting the linen away.

'It was the pistol,' Sir George answered.

Major Morris's face fell, and he groaned. 'Good G--d!' he said, staring

before him. 'What a position I am in! I suppose--I suppose, sir, his

pistol was not primed?' 'I am afraid not,' Soane answered.

He was still in his shirt, and bareheaded; but as he spoke one of

several onlookers, whom the clatter of steel had drawn to the spot,

brought his coat and waistcoat, and held them while he put them on.

Another handed his hat and wig, a third brought his shoes and knelt and

buckled them; a fourth his kerchief. All these services he accepted

freely, and was unconscious of them--as unconscious as he was of the

eager deference, the morbid interest, with which they waited on him,

eyed him, and stared at him. His own thoughts, eyes, attention, were

fixed on the group about the fallen man; and when the elder surgeon

glanced over his shoulder, as wanting help, he strode to them.




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