I suddenly caught Grey's eyes, and something whistled past my ear, cutting the lobe and shearing off a lock of hair.

I did not heed it.

What filled my mind was the sight of my enemy, very white and drawn in the face, holding a smoking pistol and staring at me.
I emptied my pistol among the tree-tops.
No one moved.

Grey continued to stare, leaning a little forward, with his lips working.
Then I took from Faulkner my second pistol.

My voice came out of my throat, funnily cracked as if from long disuse.
"Mr.Grey," I cried, "I would not have you think that I cannot shoot." Forty yards from me on the edge of the covert a turkey stood, with its foolish, inquisitive head.