. In
case I have not time to speak after the affair is over, you are to open
my hand and give him the note."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"The pistols are loaded, then."

"Very well, inform Sir John."

One of the seconds approached Sir John. The other measured off five
paces. Roland saw that the distance was greater than he had supposed.

"Excuse me," he said, "I said three paces."

"Five," replied the officer who was measuring the distance.

"Not at all, dear friend, you are wrong."

He turned to Sir John and to the other second questioningly.

"Three paces will do very well," replied Sir John, bowing.

There was nothing to be said if the two adversaries were agreed. The
five paces were reduced to three. Then two sabres were laid on the
ground to mark the limit. Sir John and Roland took their places,
standing so that their toes touched the sabres. A pistol was then handed
to each of them.

They bowed to say that they were ready. The two seconds stepped aside.
They were to give the signal by clapping their hands three times. At the
first clap the principals were to cock their pistols; at the second to
take aim; at the third to fire.

The three claps were given at regular intervals amid the most profound
silence; the wind itself seemed to pause and the rustle of the trees
was hushed. The principals were calm, but the seconds were visibly
distressed.

At the third clap two shots rang out so simultaneously that they seemed
but one. But to the utter astonishment of the seconds the combatants
remained standing. At the signal Roland had lowered his pistol and fired
into the ground. Sir John had raised his and cut the branch of a tree
three feet behind Roland. Each was clearly amazed--amazed that he
himself was still living, after having spared his antagonist.

Roland was the first to speak.

"Ah!" he cried, "my sister was right in saying that you were the most
generous man on earth."

And throwing his pistol aside he opened his arms to Sir John, who rushed
into them.

"Ah! I understand," he said. "You wanted to die; but, God be thanked, I
am not your murderer."

The two seconds came up.

"What is the matter?" they asked together.

"Nothing," said Roland, "except that I could not die by the hand of the
man I love best on earth. You saw for yourselves that he preferred to
die rather than kill me."

Then throwing himself once more into Sir John's arms, and grasping the
hands of his two friends, he said