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Marryat, Frederick, 1792-1848

"Or, The Naval Officer"

My sole preparation
for this dreadful conflict was my pistols; no other did I think of,
not even the chances of sending my friend and fellow-mortal, or going
myself into the presence of an Almighty judge. My mind was absorbed in
secret pleasure, at the idea of that acute misery which Emily would
suffer if I fell by the hand of Talbot.
I repaired to the rendezvous, where I found Talbot waiting. He came up
to me, and again said,
"Frank, I call heaven to witness that you are mistaken. You are wrong.
Suspend your opinion, at least, if you will not recall your words."
Totally possessed by the devil, and not to be convinced, till too
late, I replied to his peaceful overture by the most insulting irony:
"You were not afraid to fire at a poor boy in the water," said I,
"though you do not like to stand a shot in return. Come, come, take
your ground, be a man, stand up, don't be afraid."
"For myself," said Talbot, with a firm and placid resignation of
countenance, "I have no fears; but for you, Frank, I have great cause
of alarm:" so saying, he snatched up the loaded pistol which I threw
down to him.
We had no seconds; nor was there any person in sight. It was a bright
moonlight, and we walked to the water's edge, where the reflux of the
tide had left the sand firm to the tread. Here we stood back to back.
The usual distance was fourteen paces. Talbot refused to measure his,
but stood perfectly still. I walked ten paces, and turned round,
"Ready," said I in a low voice.


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