graveyard, half a mile out of town. No, I agree with you —’ he had seen his friend’s reaction. ‘It’s not my idea of a suitable spot either. The other is across there,’ he pointed to where a ferry boat was starting its laborious way over from the far side of the swift-flowing river. ‘They call it Screven’s Ferry. It’s on South Carolina soil, so if there should be any little legal difficulty, one can plead state’s rights and God knows what of the kind.’
‘And that’s your choice. Two boats, or one?’
‘I knew I could rely on you, Sam. Two, for God’s sake. Fonseca and I would not be safe in one together. Besides, I don’t wish to come back with his corpse afterwards.’
‘You’re very sure of yourself.’ Everett felt a cold, superstitious prickle of fear down his spine. ‘You’ve left all right and tight at home, I take it, just in case of any ...’ He hesitated.
‘Accident? Oh yes. I made my will when we were married. There’s nothing to change now.’
‘A note for your wife?’
‘No.’ It was tempting. ‘No, I think not. It won’t be necessary, I tell you, and I’d feel a fool writing it. So off with you, Sam, there’s a good fellow, and let’s get this business done with as soon as possible. Up the bluff, across the green, and you can’t miss the Exchange ... If Fonseca’s not there, try the City Hotel. Anyone will direct you. I’ll be somewhere between here and the Fort.’ He pointed downstream to Fort Wayne where it crowned the end of the bluff.
***
Charles Fonseca’s second was small, Spanish-looking, and an anxious man. Neither of the principals had spoken a word since the four of them had met on the low, marshy ground below the ferry landing. Now he approached Sam Everett. ‘An attempt at reconciliation?’ Dubiously.
‘Impossible.’ He did not like saying it.
‘What the hell are we doing wasting time like this?’ Fonseca spat out his quid of tobacco close to Hyde’s foot. ‘Let’s draw for position and be done with it. I’ve an appointment at four.’
He won the draw and a cast a quick, keen eye over the level ground that had been used so often, and so fatally, before. ‘I’ll take this end.’ It was midday, and the sun was almost due south of them; his position would give him a slight but important advantage so far as the light was concerned.
‘Very well.’ It now fell to Sam Everett to give the word to fire. The two seconds placed their principals, ten paces apart, with their backs to each other. It was a ritual to which Sam was new, but Fonseca’s second clearly knew his business. ‘Very good.’ Sam looked anxiously from Hyde to Fonseca. ‘On the word, you will turn and fire, then advance two paces before your second shot. I shall count three, like this,’ he demonstrated, ‘then say, “stop”, and it will be over.’
‘Yes.’ Fonseca’s smile was a snarl. ‘It will most certainly be over. So for God’s sake let’s begin.’
At this eleventh hour, Everett realised that there was no doctor, presumably, nearer than Savannah. But to raise this objection now, would be merely to risk the stigma of cowardice, not only for himself but for Hyde. ‘Are you ready, gentlemen?’ His voice shook a little. Then, ‘Fire!’
A swirl of dust as the two men turned, the crack of their shots, one just after the other but which? In his anxiety, Everett forgot for an instant to begin the vital count. Then, as Fonseca crumpled towards the ground, he began, ‘One ... two ... three.’ At the word ‘stop’ Fonseca had his pistol steady again, and fired from the ground.
‘Well I’ll be —’ In any other circumstances, Hyde’s look of astonishment would have been comic. Then, carefully, husbanding his words, ‘Don’t mind it, Sam.’ And he, too, swayed, fell, and lay still on the grey sand.
***
Juliet had enjoyed the trip downstream, with a light wind blowing her curls about her face and the mild December sun warming her. She sat,
‘And that’s your choice. Two boats, or one?’
‘I knew I could rely on you, Sam. Two, for God’s sake. Fonseca and I would not be safe in one together. Besides, I don’t wish to come back with his corpse afterwards.’
‘You’re very sure of yourself.’ Everett felt a cold, superstitious prickle of fear down his spine. ‘You’ve left all right and tight at home, I take it, just in case of any ...’ He hesitated.
‘Accident? Oh yes. I made my will when we were married. There’s nothing to change now.’
‘A note for your wife?’
‘No.’ It was tempting. ‘No, I think not. It won’t be necessary, I tell you, and I’d feel a fool writing it. So off with you, Sam, there’s a good fellow, and let’s get this business done with as soon as possible. Up the bluff, across the green, and you can’t miss the Exchange ... If Fonseca’s not there, try the City Hotel. Anyone will direct you. I’ll be somewhere between here and the Fort.’ He pointed downstream to Fort Wayne where it crowned the end of the bluff.
***
Charles Fonseca’s second was small, Spanish-looking, and an anxious man. Neither of the principals had spoken a word since the four of them had met on the low, marshy ground below the ferry landing. Now he approached Sam Everett. ‘An attempt at reconciliation?’ Dubiously.
‘Impossible.’ He did not like saying it.
‘What the hell are we doing wasting time like this?’ Fonseca spat out his quid of tobacco close to Hyde’s foot. ‘Let’s draw for position and be done with it. I’ve an appointment at four.’
He won the draw and a cast a quick, keen eye over the level ground that had been used so often, and so fatally, before. ‘I’ll take this end.’ It was midday, and the sun was almost due south of them; his position would give him a slight but important advantage so far as the light was concerned.
‘Very well.’ It now fell to Sam Everett to give the word to fire. The two seconds placed their principals, ten paces apart, with their backs to each other. It was a ritual to which Sam was new, but Fonseca’s second clearly knew his business. ‘Very good.’ Sam looked anxiously from Hyde to Fonseca. ‘On the word, you will turn and fire, then advance two paces before your second shot. I shall count three, like this,’ he demonstrated, ‘then say, “stop”, and it will be over.’
‘Yes.’ Fonseca’s smile was a snarl. ‘It will most certainly be over. So for God’s sake let’s begin.’
At this eleventh hour, Everett realised that there was no doctor, presumably, nearer than Savannah. But to raise this objection now, would be merely to risk the stigma of cowardice, not only for himself but for Hyde. ‘Are you ready, gentlemen?’ His voice shook a little. Then, ‘Fire!’
A swirl of dust as the two men turned, the crack of their shots, one just after the other but which? In his anxiety, Everett forgot for an instant to begin the vital count. Then, as Fonseca crumpled towards the ground, he began, ‘One ... two ... three.’ At the word ‘stop’ Fonseca had his pistol steady again, and fired from the ground.
‘Well I’ll be —’ In any other circumstances, Hyde’s look of astonishment would have been comic. Then, carefully, husbanding his words, ‘Don’t mind it, Sam.’ And he, too, swayed, fell, and lay still on the grey sand.
***
Juliet had enjoyed the trip downstream, with a light wind blowing her curls about her face and the mild December sun warming her. She sat,
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