at cannot be refused."

The other veteran remarked, "It's awkward all the same."

"Owing to the state of the people's minds in this part of the country
there was no one I could trust safely with the object of your presence
here," explained General D'Hubert, urbanely.

They saluted, looked round, and remarked both together:

"Poor ground."

"It's unfit."

"Why bother about ground, measurements, and so on? Let us simplify
matters. Load the two pairs of pistols. I will take those of General
Feraud, and let him take mine. Or, better still, let us take a mixed
pair. One of each pair. Then let us go into the wood and shoot at sight,
while you remain outside. We did not come here for ceremonies, but for
war--war to the death. Any ground is good enough for that. If I fall,
you must leave me where I lie and clear out. It wouldn't be healthy for
you to be found hanging about here after that."

It appeared after a short parley that General Feraud was willing to
accept these conditions. While the seconds were loading the pistols,
he could be heard whistling, and was seen to rub his hands with perfect
contentment. He flung off his coat briskly, and General D 'Hubert took
off his own and folded it carefully on a stone.

"Suppose you take your principal to the other side of the wood and let
him enter exactly in ten minutes from now," suggested General D'Hubert,
calmly, but feeling as if he were giving directions for his own
execution. This, however, was his last moment of weakness. "Wait. Let us
compare watches first."

He pulled out his own. The officer with the chipped nose went over to
borrow the watch of General Feraud. They bent their heads over them for
a time.

"That's it. At four minutes to six by yours. Seven to by mine."

It was the cuirassier who remained by the side of General D'Hubert,
keeping his one eye fixed immovably on the white face of the watch he
held in the palm of his hand. He opened his mouth, waiting for the beat
of the last second long before he snapped out the word, "Avancez."

General D'Hubert moved on, passing from the glaring sunshine of the
Provencal morning into the cool and aromatic shade of the pines. The
ground was clear between the reddish trunks, whose multitude, leaning at
slightly different angles, confused his eye at first. It was like going
into battle. The commanding quality of confidence in himself woke up in
his breast. He was all to his affair. The problem was how to kill the