Part 21 (1/2)

I went upstairs too. I looked out of my window. There was moonlight; possibly the last time I should ever see moonlight in the land of the living. Nothing but a mishap on my opponent's part, and that early in the combat, would save my epidermis. The absurd side of the affair struck me, and I laughed, mirthlessly, but none the less I laughed. If it had been pistols the chances would have been equal. A German does not like pistols as a dueling apparatus. They often miss fire. A sword is a surer weapon. And then, the French use them--the pistols--in their fiascoes. Rapiers? I was as familiar with the rapier as I was with the Zulu a.s.segai. I unstrapped my traveling case and took out Phyllis's photograph. I put it back. If I was to have a last look at any woman it should be at Gretchen. Then I got out my cane and practiced thrusting and parrying. My wrist was strong.

”Well,” I mused, ”there's consolation in knowing that in two hours I shall be either dead or alive.”

I flung the cane into the corner. To pa.s.s away the time I paced back and forth. It pa.s.sed too quickly; and it was not long ere I heard the clatter of the returning cavalrymen. Some one knocked at my door. I swung it open and--was thrown to the floor, bound and gagged in a tenth of a minute.

”Put him on the bed,” whispered the leader of my a.s.sailants. When this was done the voice added: ”Now you can go to the stables and wait there till I call you.”

It was the innkeeper. He surveyed me for a moment and scratched his chin.

”Will Herr keep perfectly quiet if I take the handkerchief from his mouth?” he asked.

I nodded, bewildered.

”What in tophet does this mean?” I gasped. I did not say tophet, but it looks better in writing.

”It means nothing and everything,” was the answer. ”In the first place, Herr will fight no duel. The man with whom you were to fight was sent on an errand to this out-of-the-way place as a punishment for dueling at the capital. I know him by reputation. He is a brawler, but a fair swordsman. He would halve you as I would a chicken. There is another who has a prior claim on him. If there is anything left of Herr Lieutenant at the end of the fray, you are welcome to it. Yes, there will be a duel, but you will not be one of the princ.i.p.als. It is all arranged.”

”But I do not understand,” I cried.

”It is not necessary that you should.” He laughed and rubbed his hands in pleasurable antic.i.p.ation. ”There is a young man downstairs, who arrived a few moments before the lieutenant. He has a special affair.

There were words. Herr Lieutenant is mad enough to fight a whole company.”

”Then, why in heaven's name am I up here in this condition?” I cried.

”Let me go and be the young man's second; though I can't for the life of me see where he has come from so suddenly, and I might say, opportunely. Come, cut me loose.”

”It is too late!”

”Too late?”

”Yes. Herr Lieutenant has been informed that you ran away.”

”Ran away!” I roared. ”You told him that I ran away? d.a.m.n your insolence! I'll break every bone in your body for this!” I cried, straining at the ropes.

”The ropes are new,” said he; ”you'll hurt yourself.”

”You told him that I ran away?” This was too much.

”Yes. Ah, but you will be surprised. The duel will last five minutes.

Herr Lieutenant will thrust; the thrust will be parried. He will feint; useless. Thrust on thrust; parry on parry. Consternation will take the place of confidence; he will grow nervous; he will try all his little tricks and they will fail. Then his eyes will roll and his breath come in gasps. Suddenly he thinks he sees an opening; he lunges--ach! the fool; it is all over!” The old man's voice quivered with excitement. He had pa.s.sed his time in the barracks and had seen many a sword skirmish.

”Well, are you going to take off these ropes?”

”No. You would break every bone in my body.”

”d.a.m.n it, man!” I groaned, in exasperation.

”You will soon be out of breath.”