Yet a certain fierce pride--which he had never known
before--stirred in his veins as their voices hushed and they half
recoiled before him.
"Am I to understand from my second, gentlemen," he said, looking round
the group, "that you are not satisfied?"
"The fight was square enough," said Pinckney's second in some
embarrassment, "but I reckon that he," pointing to the dead man, "did
not know who you were."
"Do you mean that he did not know that I was the son of a man proficient
in the use of arms?"
"I reckon that's about it," returned the second, glancing at the others.
"I am glad to say, sir, that I have a better opinion of his courage,"
said Clarence, lifting his hat to the dead body as he turned away.
Yet he was conscious of no remorse, concern, or even pity in his act.
Perhaps this was visible in his face, for the group appeared awed by
this perfection of the duelist's coolness, and even returned his formal
parting salutation with a vague and timid respect. He thanked the
deputy, regained the hotel, saddled his horse and galloped away.
But not towards the Rancho. Now that he could think of his future, that
had no place in his reflections; even the episode of Susy was forgotten
in the new and strange conception of himself and his irresponsibility
which had come upon him with the killing of Pinckney and the words
of his second.
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