Soane answered with impatience. 'I have no second,' he said, 'but my
surgeon will be a competent witness.'

'Ah! to be sure!' Major Morris answered, with a sigh of relief. 'That is
so. Then, gentlemen, I shall give the signal by saying One, two, three!
Be good enough to fire together at the word Three! Do you understand?'

'Yes,' said Mr. Dunborough. And 'Yes,' Sir George said more slowly.

'Then, now, be ready! Prepare to fire! One! two! th--'

'Stay!' flashed Mr. Dunborough, while the word still hung in the air.
'You have not given us our pistols,' he continued, with an oath.

'What?' cried the second, staring.

'Man, you have not given us our pistols.'

The major was covered with confusion. 'God bless my soul! I have not!'
he cried; while Lord Almeric giggled hysterically. 'Dear me! dear me! it
is very trying to be alone!' He threw his hat and wig on the grass, and
again wiped his brow, and took up the pistols. 'Sir George? Thank you.
Mr. Dunborough, here is yours.' Then: 'Now, are you ready? Thank you.'

He retreated to his place again. 'Are you ready, gentlemen? Are you
quite ready?' he repeated anxiously, amid a breathless silence. 'One!
two! _three_!'

Sir George's pistol exploded at the word; the hammer of the other
clicked futile in the pan. The spectators, staring, and expecting to see