At 'three,' both our pistols went off.

I heard something whizz by me, and my antagonist, giving a most horrible groan, staggered backwards and fell.
'He's down--he's down!' cried the seconds, running towards him.

Ulick lifted him up--Mick took his head.
'He's hit here, in the neck,' said Mick; and laying open his coat, blood was seen gurgling from under his gorget, at the very spot at which I aimed.
'How is it with you ?' said Ulick.

'Is he really hit ?' said he, looking hard at him.

The unfortunate man did not answer, but when the support of Ulick's arm was withdrawn from his back, groaned once more, and fell backwards.
'The young fellow has begun well,' said Mick, with a scowl.