y an enraged man flourishing a big sabre, the old chap
trembling in all his limbs dropped the watering-pot. At once Lieut.
Feraud kicked it away with great animosity, and, seizing the gardener
by the throat, backed him against a tree. He held him there, shouting in
his ear, "Stay here, and look on! You understand? You've got to look on!
Don't dare budge from the spot!"

Lieut. D'Hubert came slowly down the walk, unclasping his dolman with
unconcealed disgust. Even then, with his hand already on the hilt of his
sword, he hesitated to draw till a roar, "En garde, fichtre! What do you
think you came here for?" and the rush of his adversary forced him to
put himself as quickly as possible in a posture of defence.

The clash of arms filled that prim garden, which hitherto had known no
more warlike sound than the click of clipping shears; and presently the
upper part of an old lady's body was projected out of a window upstairs.
She tossed her arms above her white cap, scolding in a cracked voice.
The gardener remained glued to the tree, his toothless mouth open in
idiotic astonishment, and a little farther up the path the pretty girl,
as if spellbound to a small grass plot, ran a few steps this way and
that, wringing her hands and muttering crazily. She did not rush between
the combatants: the onslaughts of Lieut. Feraud were so fierce that
her heart failed her. Lieut. D'Hubert, his faculties concentrated upon
defence, needed all his skill and science of the sword to stop the
rushes of his adversary. Twice already he had to break ground. It
bothered him to feel his foothold made insecure by the round, dry gravel
of the path rolling under the hard soles of his boots. This was most
unsuitable ground, he thought, keeping a watchful, narrowed gaze, shaded
by long eyelashes, upon the fiery stare of his thick-set adversary. This
absurd affair would ruin his reputation of a sensible, well-behaved,
promising young officer. It would damage, at any rate, his immediate
prospects, and lose him the good-will of his general. These worldly
preoccupations were no doubt misplaced in view of the solemnity of the
moment. A duel, whether regarded as a ceremony in the cult of honour, or
even when reduced in its moral essence to a form of manly sport, demands
a perfect singleness of intention, a homicidal austerity of mood. On
the other hand, this vivid concern for his future had not a bad effect
inasmuch as it began to rouse the anger of Lieut. D