or ought, to feel very uncomfortable. They stand by in cold blood to watch the glittering steel, whose shimmer may every moment be quenched in blood. If the eye be dropped for an instant, the next it may look on death, and death in its most fearful shape—one human being dying by the rage, the evil passion, or the unforgivable fault of another.
The suspense in the present instance was of short duration. Maynard was no match for Sir George. The clicking of the swords smote on the silent night, the moonlight glanced from the blade ere it reached the dewy grass; but, ere a bird disturbed from its roost was out of sight in the air, Walter had fallen; and the grass, silvery with dew and moonlight, ran red with human blood.
"Will you beg my pardon?" said Sir George, setting his foot on the body of his prostrate enemy.
Walter could only look denial and defiance; and Sir George had raised his arm to plunge his sword again through the enemy at his feet,
