Once clear of this accursed house I was seized of a great disgust, a
nausea that was both mental and physical, and I groaned aloud in my
extremity.
"O God, Anthony! Oh, my God!"
At this he clasped me in his arms and I stood awhile, shivering, my
face hidden in his bosom.
"Dear fellow!" he muttered. "Women are the devil. I know--I'm married,
d'ye see!"
Faint and far away a church clock struck the hour.
"What time was that?" I enquired.
"Eleven o'clock, Perry."
"Six weary hours to wait!" I groaned.
"B'gad, yes--only six hours!"
"Thank God!" quoth I fervently, and so we went on again, arm in arm.
"You mean to kill that damned fellow, Peregrine?"
"If they place us near enough."
"You are good for twelve paces, I suppose?"
"I don't know."
"But you--you shoot reasonably well, of course?"
"Very badly! This was why I was so anxious to do my shooting across a
table--"
"But you--you--O Lord, Perry--you are familiar with the
weapon--practised at the galleries occasionally?"
"I have shot once or twice at a target to please my uncle Jervas, but
never succeeded in hitting it that I remember."
"Oh, damnation!"
"That is what my uncle Jervas said, I remember."
"But then--why how--oh, man!" stammered Anthony, viewing me in
wide-eyed dismay, "how in the fiend's name d' you expect to hit your
man?"
"I don't know, Anthony--except, as I say, across a table or a
handkerchief. But what matter? After all, perhaps it is--yes--just as
well--"
"Why, then 't will be rank murder! Ha, by heaven, Perry, you--you mean
to let the fellow murder you--is this it?"
"I mean to shoot as straight as I can.
Pages:
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412