r stand still and kick a stone from his path, or gape so
loudly that the moon shone into his open mouth. At last he disappeared
round a corner of the buildings.

"Now!" whispered Heimert. "You go first, but take off your sword."

Obediently Heppner unbuckled his belt and laid it down. He pushed the
revolver carefully into his coat-pocket, and swung himself out of the
window. The deputy sergeant-major extinguished the lamp and followed
him.

Side by side, like two good friends, the two men climbed the path that
led up the hill-side; Heimert striding on with quiet even pace, and
Heppner, with unsteady knees and panting breast, trying involuntarily
to keep step with the other man.

They vanished into the deep shadow of the wood, and after a short time
stepped out again into the bright moonlight above. The moon was almost
exactly overhead.

The deputy sergeant-major went thoughtfully along the path till he
arrived at the spot where the ascent ceased and the ground became quite
level.

"This is the best place, I think," he said. With the spurred heel of
his riding-boot he drew a deep furrow in the clayey soil.

"Will you stand here?" he said to the sergeant-major. Without a word
Heppner walked up to the mark. He carefully placed his feet with the
toes against the marked line. Heimert went on another ten paces, not
the leaping strides that are usually taken in arranging a duel, but
fairly long ordinary paces.

At the tenth he paused, and again dug his heel into the earth.

The two men stood opposite to each other, separated by the terribly
narrow interval of scarcely nine yards.

"Cock your pistol, Heppner!" cried Heimert to him. And the
sergeant-major did as the other desired. He seemed quite unaware of its
being a matter of life and death; he moved as in a dream.

Suddenly Heimert let out a curse. A difficulty had presented itself at
the last moment, and threatened to upset his whole plan.

How were they to shoot?

By counting, of course. He had intended to count "one," then, after a
couple of seconds by his watch, "two," and then again, after another
couple of seconds, "three." Between "one" and "three" they were to
fire. But, damn it all! how could he take aim if he was holding the
watch in his hand and counting the seconds on the dial?

Irresolutely he looked down at his watch. This was like a bad joke, and
perfectly maddening.

Suddenly an idea came to him. The minute-hand showed just two minutes
to