Holdfast sprung forward, and
Edward, looking in the direction, perceived Corbould partly hidden
behind a tree, with his gun leveled at him. He heard the trigger
pulled, and snap of the lock, but the gun did not go off; and then
Corbould made his appearance, striking at Holdfast with the butt-end
of his gun. Edward advanced to him and desired him to desist, or it
would be the worse for him.
"Indeed, younker! it may be the worse for you," cried Corbould.
"It might have been if your gun had gone off," replied Edward.
I did not aim at you. I aimed at the dog, and I will kill the brute if
I can."
"Not without danger to yourself; but it was not him that you aimed at
--your gun was not pointed low enough to hit the dog--it was leveled
at me, you sneaking wretch; and I have only to thank my own prudence
and your sleepy head for having escaped with my life. I tell you
candidly, that I threw the powder out of your pan while you were
asleep. If I served you as you deserve, I should now put my bullet
into you; but I can not kill a man who is defenseless--and that saves
your life; but set off as fast as you can away from me, for if you
follow me I will show no more forbearance. Away with you directly,"
continued Edward, raising his gun to his shoulder and pointing it at
Corbould; "if you do not be off, I'll fire.
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