At nine Abbott retired. He did not sleep very well. He was irked by the

morbid idea that the Barone was going to send the bullet through his

throat. He was up at five. He strolled about the garden. He realized that

it was very good to be alive. Once he gazed somberly at the little white

villa, away to the north. How crisply it stood out against the dark

foliage! How blue the water was! And far, far away the serene snowcaps!

Nora Harrigan ... Well, he was going to stand up like a man. She should

never be ashamed of her memory of him. If he went out, all worry would be

at an end, and that would be something. What a mess he had made of things!

He did not blame the Italian. A duel! he, the son of a man who had

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invented wash-tubs, was going to fight a duel! He wanted to laugh; he

wanted to cry. Wasn't he just dreaming? Wasn't it all a nightmare out of

which he would presently awake?

"Breakfast, Sahib," said Rao, deferentially touching his arm.

He was awake; it was all true.

"You'll want coffee," began the colonel. "Drink as much as you like. And

you'll find the eggs good, too." The colonel wanted to see if Abbott ate

well.

The artist helped himself twice and drank three cups of coffee. "You know,

I suppose all men in a hole like this have funny ideas. I was just

thinking that I should like a partridge and a bottle of champagne."

"We'll have that for tiffin," said the colonel, confidentially. In fact,

he summoned the butler and gave the order.

"It's mighty kind of you, Colonel, to buck me up this way."

"Rot!" The colonel experienced a slight heat in his leathery cheeks. "All

you've got to do is to hold your arm out straight, pull the trigger, and

squint afterward."

"I sha'n't hurt the Barone," smiling faintly.

"Are you going to be ass enough to pop your gun in the air?" indignantly.

Abbott shrugged; and the colonel cursed himself for the guiltiest

scoundrel unhung.

Half an hour later the opponents stood at each end of the tennis-court.

Ellicott, the surgeon, had laid open his medical case. He was the most

agitated of the five men. His fingers shook as he spread out the lints and

bandages. The colonel and Courtlandt had solemnly gone through the

formality of loading the weapons. The sun had not climbed over the eastern

summits, but the snow on the western tops was rosy.

"At the word three, gentlemen, you will fire," said the colonel.

The two shots came simultaneously. Abbott had deliberately pointed his

into the air. For a moment he stood perfectly still; then, his knees

sagged, and he toppled forward on his face.




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