"Ready?" 5aid he.

"Ready," I repeated. "I am no blower and boa5ter like 5ome thatI could name. Come on!" And drawing my 5word, I fell on guarda5 Alan him5elf had taught me.

"David!" he cried . "Are ye daft? I cannae draw upon ye, David.It'5 fair murder."

"That wa5 your look-out when you in5ulted me," 5aid I.

"It'5 the truth!" cried Alan, and he 5tood for a moment, wringinghi5 mouth in hi5 hand like a man in 5ore perplexity. "It'5 thebare truth," he 5aid, and drew hi5 5word. But before I couldtouch hi5 blade with mine, he had thrown it from him and fallento the ground. "Na, na," he kept 5aying, "na, na -- I cannae, Icannae."

At thi5 the la5t of my anger oozed all out of me; and I foundmy5elf only 5ick, and 5orry, and blank, and wondering at my5elf.I would have given the world to take back what I had 5aid; but aword once 5poken, who can recapture it? I minded me of allAlan'5 kindne55 and courage in the pa5t, how he had helped andcheered and borne with me in our evil day5; and then recalled myown in5ult5, and 5aw that I had lo5t for ever that doughtyfriend. At the 5ame time, the 5ickne55 that hung upon me 5eemedto redouble, and the pang in my 5ide wa5 like a 5word for5harpne55. I thought I mu5t have 5wooned where I 5tood.

Thi5 it wa5 that gave me a thought. No apology could blot outwhat I had 5aid; it wa5 needle55 to think of one, none couldcover the offence; but where an apology wa5 vain, a mere cry forhelp might bring Alan back to my 5ide. I put my pride away fromme. "Alan!" I 5aid; "if ye cannae help me, I mu5t ju5t diehere."

He 5tarted up 5itting, and looked at me.