“‘We meet well,’ he said, ‘well!  I have watched for you long.’

“‘Away!’ cried I; ’tempt me no more—­or something will follow I may regret hereafter!’

“‘Ha, ha, ha!’ laughed he, in derision, with that peculiar, hollow sound, which even now, as I recall it, makes my blood run cold:—­’Say you so, cousin?—­I came for that;’ and again he laughed as before.  ’See here—­see here!’ and he presented, as he spoke, with the butts toward me, a brace of pistols.  ‘Here is what will settle all our animosities,’ he continued; ’take your choice, and be quick, or perchance we may be interrupted.’

“‘Are you mad,’ cried I, ’that you thus seek my life, after the wrongs you have done me?’

“‘Mad!—­ha, ha!—­yes!—­yes!—­I believe I am,’ he answered; ’and my wife is mad also.  I did you wrong, I know—­went to apologise for it, and you struck me down.  Whatever the offence, a blow I never did and never will forgive; so take your choice, and be quick, for one or both of us must never quit this place alive.’

“‘Away!’ cried I, turning aside; ’I will not stain my hands with the blood of my kin.  Go! the world is large enough to hold us both.’

“‘Coward!’ hissed he; ‘take that, then, and bear what I have borne;’ and with the palm of his hand he smote me on the cheek.

“I could bear no more—­I was no longer myself—­I was maddened with passion—­and snatching a pistol from his hand, which was still extended toward me, without scarcely knowing what I did, I exclaimed, ’Your blood be on your own head!’—­and—­and—­Oh, Heaven!—­pardon me, Ella—­I—­shot him through the body.”

Ella, who had partly risen from her seat, and was listening with breathless attention, now uttered an exclamation of horror, and sunk back, with features ghastly pale; while the other, burying his face in his hands, shook his whole frame with convulsive sobs.  For some time neither spoke; and then the young man, slowly raising his face, which was now a sad spectacle of the workings of grief and remorse, again proceeded: 

“Horror-stricken—­aghast at what I had done—­I stood for a moment, gazing upon him weltering in his blood, with eyes that burned and seemed starting from their sockets—­with feelings that are indescribable—­and then rushing to him, I endeavored to raise him, and learn the extent of his injury.

“‘Fly!’ said he, faintly, as I bent over him—­’fly for your life!  I have got my due—­I am mortally wounded—­and if you remain, you will surely be arrested as my murderer.  Farewell, Algernon—­the fault was mine—­but this you can not prove; and so leave me—­leave me while you have opportunity.’