e--much alarmed!"

"Seriously? Then are you a coward?"

"N-no!--I don't think so. A coward is a man who is afraid and runs away;
the man who is frightened but does not run away, is not quite a coward,"
said the prince with a smile, after a moment's thought.

"And you wouldn't run away?"

"No--I don't think I should run away," replied the prince, laughing
outright at last at Aglaya's questions.

"Though I am a woman, I should certainly not run away for anything,"
said Aglaya, in a slightly pained voice. "However, I see you are
laughing at me and twisting your face up as usual in order to make
yourself look more interesting. Now tell me, they generally shoot at
twenty paces, don't they? At ten, sometimes? I suppose if at ten they
must be either wounded or killed, mustn't they?"

"I don't think they often kill each other at duels."

"They killed Pushkin that way."

"That may have been an accident."

"Not a bit of it; it was a duel to the death, and he was killed."

"The bullet struck so low down that probably his antagonist would never
have aimed at that part of him--people never do; he would have aimed at
his chest or head; so that probably the bullet hit him accidentally. I
have been told this by competent authorities."

"Well, a soldier once told me that they were always ordered to aim at
the middle of the body. So you see they don't aim at the chest or head;
they aim lower on purpose. I asked some officer about this afterwards,
and he said it was perfectly true."

"That is probably when they fire from a long distance."

"Can you shoot at all?"

"No, I have never shot in my life."

"Can't you even load a pistol?"

"No! That is, I understand how it's done, of course, but I have never
done it."

"Then, you don't know how, for it is a matter that needs practice. Now
listen and learn; in the first place buy good powder, not damp (they say
it mustn't be at all damp, but very dry), some fine kind it is--you must
ask for PISTOL powder, not the stuff they load cannons with. They say
one makes the bullets oneself, somehow or other. Have you got a pistol?"

"No--and I don't want one," said the prince, laughing.

"Oh, what NONSENSE! You must buy one. French or English are the best,
they say. Then take a little powder, about a thimbleful, or perhaps two,
and pour it into the barrel. Better put plenty. Then push in a bit of
felt (it MUST be felt, for some reason or other); you can easily get
a bit off some ol