St. Elmo | Page 5

of
tamed vipers, each struggles to get its head above the other." To her,
earth seemed very lovely; life stretched before her like the sun's path in
that clear sky, and, as free from care or foreboding as the fair June day,
she walked on, preceded by her dog--and the chant burst once more
from her lips:
"He stood and measured the earth: and the everlasting mountains were
scattered, the perpetual hills--"
The sudden, almost simultaneous report of two pistol-shots rang out
sharply on the cool, calm air, and startled the child so violently that she
sprang forward and dropped the bucket. The sound of voices reached
her from the thick wood bordering the path, and, without reflection, she
followed the dog, who bounded off toward the point whence it issued.

Upon the verge of the forest she paused, and, looking down a dewy
green glade where the rising sun darted the earliest arrowy rays, beheld
a spectacle which burned itself indelibly upon her memory. A group of
five gentlemen stood beneath the dripping chestnut and sweet-gum
arches; one leaned against the trunk of a tree, two were conversing
eagerly in undertones, and two faced each other fifteen paces apart,
with pistols in their hands. Ere she could comprehend the scene, the
brief conference ended, the seconds resumed their places to witness
another fire, and like the peal of a trumpet echoed the words:
"Fire! One!--two!--three!"
The flash and ringing report mingled with the command and one of the
principals threw up his arm and fell. When with horror in her wide-
strained eyes and pallor on her lips, the child staggered to the spot, and
looked on the prostrate form, he was dead. The hazel eyes stared
blankly at the sky, and the hue of life and exuberant health still glowed
on the full cheek; but the ball had entered the heart, and the warm blood,
bubbling from his breast, dripped on the glistening grass. The surgeon
who knelt beside him took the pistol from his clenched fingers, and
gently pressed the lids over his glazing eyes. Not a word was uttered,
but while the seconds sadly regarded the stiffening form, the surviving
principal coolly drew out a cigar, lighted and placed it between his lips.
The child's eyes had wandered to the latter from the pool of blood, and
now in a shuddering cry she broke the silence:
"Murderer!"
The party looked around instantly, and for the first time perceived her
standing there in their midst, with loathing and horror in the gaze she
fixed on the perpetrator of the awful deed. In great surprise he drew
back a step or two, and asked gruffly:
"Who are you? What business have you here?"
"Oh! how dared you murder him? Do you think God will forgive you
on the gallows?"

He was a man probably twenty-seven years of age--singularly fair,
handsome, and hardened in iniquity, but he cowered before the
blanched and accusing face of the appalled child; and ere a reply could
be framed, his friend came close to him.
"Clinton, you had better be off; you have barely time to catch the
Knoxville train, which leaves Chattanooga in half an hour. I would
advise you to make a long stay in New York, for there will be trouble
when Dent's brother hears of this morning's work."
"Aye! Take my word for that, and put the Atlantic between you and
Dick Dent," added the surgeon, smiling grimly, as if the anticipation of
retributive justice afforded him pleasure.
"I will simply put this between us," replied the homicide, fitting his
pistol to the palm of his hand; and as he did so, a heavy antique
diamond ring flashed on his little finger.
"Come, Clinton, delay may cause you more trouble than we bargained
for," urged his second.
Without even glancing toward the body of his antagonist, Clinton
scowled at the child, and, turning away, was soon out of sight.
"Oh, sir! will you let him get away? will you let him go unpunished?"
"He cannot be punished," answered the surgeon, looking at her with
mingled curiosity and admiration.
"I thought men were hung for murder."
"Yes--but this is not murder."
"Not murder? He shot him dead! What is it?"
"He killed him in a duel, which is considered quite right and altogether
proper."
"A duel?"

She had never heard the word before, and pondered an instant.
"To take a man's life is murder. Is there no law to punish 'a duel'?"
"None strong enough to prohibit the practice. It is regarded as the only
method of honorable satisfaction open to gentlemen."
"Honorable satisfaction?" she repeated--weighing the new phraseology
as cautiously and fearfully as she would have handled the bloody
garments of the victim.
"What is your name?" asked the surgeon.
"Edna Earl."