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240 anger. Not an eye rested on the moon, whose sad, spiritual light has so little in common with the world on which it looks. None listened to the low, soft music in the trees, every leaf of which, instinct with separate harmony, was like a soft note on a mysterious lyre. None of the four spoke till they arrived at a space open to the moonlight, but yet sheltered by the elms. There was little chance of being overlooked or interrupted. The park was locked; there was no entrance unless from the gardens of the houses; and from the houses themselves they were at a distance, besides having the elms between them. "I will allow you to beg pardon even now," said Sir George, insolently. Walter made no reply but by withdrawing his sword from the sheath; and in a few moments the seconds had placed them, and stood to see fair-play. I can understand the feeling of the duellist when really fierce and bitter—there are injuries only to be washed out in blood; but I have always thought, that the seconds must,