to his godless creed, must strive as though that friend were his dearest
foe. The Englishman fought coolly, the Gael with fervor. The latter had
an unguarded moment. Haward's blade leaped to meet it, and on the other's
shirt appeared a bright red stain.

In the moment that he was touched the Highlander let fall his sword.
Haward, not understanding, lowered his point, and with a gesture bade his
antagonist recover the weapon. But the storekeeper folded his arms. "Where
blood has been drawn there is satisfaction," he said. "I have given it to
you, and now, by the bones of Gillean-na-Tuaidhe, I will not fight you
longer!"

For a minute or more Haward stood with his eyes upon the ground and his
hand yet closely clasping the rapier hilt; then, drawing a long breath, he
took up the velvet scabbard and slowly sheathed his blade. "I am content,"
he said. "Your wound, I hope, is slight?"

MacLean thrust a handkerchief into his bosom to stanch the bleeding. "A
pin prick," he said indifferently.

His late antagonist held out his hand. "It is well over. Come! We are not
young hotheads, but men who have lived and suffered, and should know the
vanity and the pity of such strife. Let us forget this hour, call each
other friends again"--

"Tell me first," demanded MacLean, his arm rigid at his side,--"tell me
first why you fought Mr. Everard and Mr. Travis."

Gray eyes and dark blue met. "I fought them," said Haward, "because, on a
time, they offered insult to the woman whom I intend to make my wife."