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The
more
timid
of
the
spectators
had
already
commenced
making
their
escape
out
of
doors
tumbling
over
one
another
,
in
their
haste
to
get
out
of
harm
's
way
.
A
few
stayed
in
the
saloon
from
sheer
irresolution
;
a
few
others
,
of
cooler
courage
,
from
choice
;
or
,
perhaps
,
actuated
by
a
more
astute
instinct
,
which
told
them
that
in
attempting
to
escape
they
might
get
a
bullet
in
the
back
.
There
was
an
interval
--
some
six
seconds
--
of
silence
,
during
which
a
pin
might
have
been
heard
falling
upon
the
floor
.
It
was
but
the
interlude
that
often
occurs
between
resolution
and
action
;
when
the
mind
has
completed
its
task
,
and
the
body
has
yet
to
begin
.
It
might
have
been
more
brief
with
other
actors
on
the
scene
.
Two
ordinary
men
would
have
blazed
away
at
once
,
and
without
reflection
.
But
the
two
now
confronting
each
other
were
not
of
the
common
kind
.
Both
had
seen
street
fighting
before
--
had
taken
part
in
it
--
and
knew
the
disadvantage
of
an
idle
shot
.
Each
was
determined
to
take
sure
aim
on
the
other
.
It
was
this
that
prolonged
the
interval
of
inaction
.
To
those
outside
,
who
dared
not
even
look
through
the
doors
,
the
suspense
was
almost
painful
.
The
cracking
of
the
pistols
,
which
they
expected
every
moment
to
hear
,
would
have
been
a
relief
.
It
was
almost
a
disappointment
when
,
instead
,
they
heard
the
voice
of
the
major
--
who
was
among
the
few
who
had
stayed
inside
--
raised
in
a
loud
authoritative
tone
.
"
Hold
!
"
commanded
he
,
in
the
accent
of
one
accustomed
to
be
obeyed
,
at
the
same
time
whisking
his
sabre
out
of
its
scabbard
,
and
interposing
its
long
blade
between
the
disputants
.
"
Hold
your
fire
--
I
command
you
both
.
Drop
your
muzzles
;
or
by
the
Almighty
I
'll
take
the
arm
off
the
first
of
you
that
touches
trigger
!
Hold
,
I
say
!
"
"
Why
?
"
shouted
Calhoun
,
purple
with
angry
passion
.
"
Why
,
Major
Ringwood
?
After
an
insult
like
that
,
and
from
a
low
fellow
--
"
"
You
were
the
first
to
offer
it
,
Captain
Calhoun
.
"
