"I will show you the way, sir."

The surgeon spoke hurriedly to the two remaining gentlemen, and
followed his guide. Slowly she retraced her steps, refilled her
bucket at the spring, and walked on before the stranger. But the
glory of the morning had passed away; a bloody mantle hung between
the splendor of summer sunshine and the chilled heart of the awe-
struck girl. The forehead of the radiant, holy June day had been
suddenly red-branded like Cain, to be henceforth an occasion of
hideous reminiscences; and with a blanched face and trembling limbs
the child followed a narrow, beaten path, which soon terminated at
the gate of a rude, unwhitewashed paling. A low, comfortless looking
three-roomed house stood within, and on the steps sat an elderly
man, smoking a pipe, and busily engaged in mending a bridle. The
creaking of the gate attracted his attention, and he looked up
wonderingly at the advancing stranger.

"Oh, grandpa! there is a murdered man lying in the grass, under the
chestnut trees, down by the spring."

"Why! how do you know he was murdered?"

"Good morning, sir. Your granddaughter happened to witness a very
unfortunate and distressing affair. A duel was fought at sunrise, in
the edge of the woods yonder, and the challenged party, Mr. Dent, of
Georgia, was killed. I came to ask permission to bring the body
here, until arrangements can be made for its interment; and also to
beg your assistance in obtaining a coffin."