"The devil take the impertinent fellow!" exclaimed the elder Woodhull, (Edward's second); "proceed to your business, gentlemen."
Erskine placed himself in an attitude to fire, and raised his arm. Mr. Lloyd remained firm and immoveable. "Do you mean to take my fire, Sir?" asked Erskine. "If you continue to stand there, the peril be upon yourself; the fault rests with you."
"I shall risk taking the fire, if you dare risk giving it," replied Mr. Lloyd, coolly.
"Curse him!" said Woodhull, "he thinks you are afraid to fire."
This speech had the intended effect upon Erskine. "Give us the signal," he said, hastily.
The signal was given, and Edward discharged his pistol. The ball grazed Mr. Lloyd's arm, and passed off without any other injury. "It was bravely done," said he, with a contemptuous coolness, that increased, if any thing could increase the shame Erskine felt, the moment he had vented his passion by the rash and violent act. "We have been singularly fortunate," he continued, "considering thou hadst all the firing to thyself, and two fair marks. Poor fellow!" he added, turning to Rivington, "so broad a shield as I furnished for thee, I should have hoped would have saved some of this fright."
John Woodhull had perceived that his friend's courage, which, the preceding evening, had been stimulated by the liquor, had vanished with the fog that clouded his reason; and ever since they came
