ot was even lower, even less like an intentional miss.
Nothing would have convinced Gaganov now.

"Again!" he muttered, grinding his teeth. "No matter! I've been
challenged and I'll make use of my rights. I'll fire a third time...
whatever happens."

"You have full right to do so," Kirillov rapped out. Mavriky
Nikolaevitch said nothing. The opponents were placed a third time, the
signal was given. This time Gaganov went right up to the barrier, and
began from there taking aim, at a distance of twelve paces. His hand
was trembling too much to take good aim. Stavrogin stood with his pistol
lowered and awaited his shot without moving.

"Too long; you've been aiming too long!" Kirillov shouted impetuously.
"Fire! Fire!"

But the shot rang out, and this time Stavrogin's white beaver hat flew
off. The aim had been fairly correct. The crown of the hat was pierced
very low down; a quarter of an inch lower and all would have been over.
Kirillov picked up the hat and handed it to Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch.

"Fire; don't detain your adversary!" cried Mavriky Nikolaevitch in
extreme agitation, seeing that Stavrogin seemed to have forgotten to
fire, and was examining the hat with Kirillov. Stavrogin started, looked
at Gaganov, turned round and this time, without the slightest regard for
punctilio, fired to one side, into the copse. The duel was over. Gaganov
stood as though overwhelmed. Mavriky Nikolaevitch went up and began
saying something to him, but he did not seem to understand. Kirillov
took off his hat as he went away, and nodded to Mavriky Nikolaevitch.
But Stavrogin forgot his former politeness. When he had shot into the
copse he did not even turn towards the barrier. He handed his pistol to
Kirillov and hastened towards the horses. His face looked angry; he did
not speak. Kirillov, too, was silent. They got on their horses and set
off at a gallop.

III

"Why don't you speak?" he called impatiently to Kirillov, when they were
not far from home.

"What do you want?" replied the latter, almost slipping off his horse,
which was rearing.

Stavrogin restrained himself.

"I didn't mean to insult that... fool, and I've insulted him again," he
said quietly.

"Yes, you've insulted him again," Kirillov jerked out, "and besides,
he's not a fool."

"I've done all I can, anyway."

"No."

"What ought I to have done?"

"Not have challenged him."

"Accept another blow in the face?"

"Yes, accept another."

"I c