"Not murdered. No, no, not murdered. It was in fair
fight. I gave you the choice. When I thought I had the unloaded one I
called on you to fire. Why the devil didn't you? I wanted you to fire. I
was mad for you to fire. I wanted to be killed there and then. No one
can say I shirked it. I gave you your chance."
"That's nothing to do with it," said Austin sternly. "When you fired you
meant murder. Your face meant killing. And supposing I had fired--and
killed you! Good God! I would sooner you had killed me than burdened my
soul with your death. It would have been less cowardly. Yes, cowardly.
The conditions were not even. To me it was trivial fooling. To you,
deadly earnest. Are you not man enough to see that I have the right to
exact some penalty?"
Dick remained silent for a few moments, while the powers of light and
darkness struggled together in his soul. At last he said in a low voice,
hanging his head:
"I'll accept your terms."
"You leave by the night mail for Witherby."
"Very well."
"There's another point," said Austin.
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