[Forticsl-progetto] {Spam?} ng to the earth. "A

[Fuhr Ratzlaff]

 behind. In an instant I was at her side. Bending her blushing face over
the neck of her white filly, she said hurriedly:-- "Words have passed
between Lord Somerset and yourself. You are about to fight. Don't deny
it--but hear me. You will meet him--I know your skill of weapons. He
will be at your mercy. I entreat you to spare his life!" I hesitated.
"Never!" I cried passionately; "he has insulted a Denville!" "Terence,"
she whispered, "Terence--FOR MY SAKE?" The blood rushed to my cheeks,
and her eyes sought the ground in bashful confusion. "You love him
then?" I cried, bitterly. "No, no," she said, agitatedly, "no, you do me
wrong. I--I--cannot explain myself. My father!--the Lady Dowager
Sackville--the estate of Sackville--the borough--my uncle, Fitzroy
Somerset. Ah! what am I saying? Forgive me. O Terence," she said, as her
beautiful head sank on my shoulder, "you know not what I suffer!" I
seized her hand and covered it with passionate kisses. But the high-bred
English girl, recovering something of her former hauteur, said hastily,
"Leave me, leave me, but promise!" "I promise," I replied,
enthusiastically; "I WILL spare his life!" "Thanks, Terence,--thanks!"
and disengaging her hand from my lips she rode rapidly away. The next
morning, the Hon. Captain Henry Somerset and myself exchanged nineteen
shots in the glen, and at each fire I shot away a button from his
uniform. As my last bullet shot off the last button from his sleeve, I
remarked quietly, "You seem now, my lord, to be almost as ragged as the
gentry you sneered at," and rode haughtily away. CHAPTER II. THE FIGHTIN
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