The rain was now over;
day had almost come, and the birds were piping in the shrubbery and
on the forest trees of the garden. The Prince and his companions
were visible for a moment as they followed an alley between two
flowering thickets; but at the first corner a clump of foliage
intervened, and they were again concealed from view. This was all
that the Colonel and the Physician had an opportunity to see, and
the garden was so vast, and the place of combat evidently so remote
from the house, that not even the noise of sword-play reached their
ears.
"He has taken him towards the grave," said Dr. Noel, with a
shudder.
"God," cried the Colonel, "God defend the right!"
And they awaited the event in silence, the Doctor shaking with
fear, the Colonel in an agony of sweat. Many minutes must have
elapsed, the day was sensibly broader, and the birds were singing
more heartily in the garden before a sound of returning footsteps
recalled their glances towards the door. It was the Prince and the
two Indian officers who entered. God had defended the right.
"I am ashamed of my emotion," said Prince Florizel; "I feel it is a
weakness unworthy of my station, but the continued existence of
that hound of hell had begun to prey upon me like a disease, and
his death has more refreshed me than a night of slumber. Look,
Geraldine," he continued, throwing his sword upon the floor, "there
is the blood of the man who killed your brother.
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