I'll have my young lady out to stop
the duel, and, God's love, she'll come alone. Once here she's ours, and
they may cut each other's throats as they will, sweetheart."
He crossed the yard, tried the door,--unlocked, as he had left it,--
pushed it open, and went in, groping his way to the door of the dining-
room. He listened, and there was no sound. Then he heard some one go
in. He listened again. Whoever it was had sat down. Very carefully he
felt for the spring and opened the door. Jessica was seated at the table
with paper and an ink-horn before her. She was writing. Presently she
stopped--the pen was bad. She got up and went away to her room.
Instantly Bucklaw laid his plan. He entered as she disappeared, went to
the table and looked at the paper on which she had been writing. It bore
but the words, "Dear Friend." He caught up the quill and wrote hurriedly
beneath them, this:
"If you'd see two gentlemen fighting, go now where you stopped them last
night. The wrong one may be killed unless."
With a quick flash of malice he signed, in half a dozen lightning-like
strokes, with a sketch of his hook. Then he turned, hurried into the
little hall, and so outside, and posted himself beside a lilac bush,
drawing down a bunch of the flowers to drink in their perfume. Jessica,
returning, went straight to the table.
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