ered behind his tree, and had to steady himself
against it with his hand. The other was lying on the ground, then! On
the ground! Perfectly still, too! Exposed! What could it mean? . . . The
notion that he had knocked over his adversary at the first shot entered
then General Feraud's head. Once there it grew with every second of
attentive gazing, overshadowing every other supposition--irresistible,
triumphant, ferocious.

"What an ass I was to think I could have missed him," he muttered to
himself. "He was exposed en plein--the fool!--for quite a couple of
seconds."

General Feraud gazed at the motionless limbs, the last vestiges of
surprise fading before an unbounded admiration of his own deadly skill
with the pistol.

"Turned up his toes! By the god of war, that was a shot!" he exulted
mentally. "Got it through the head, no doubt, just where I aimed,
staggered behind that tree, rolled over on his back, and died."

And he stared! He stared, forgetting to move, almost awed, almost
sorry. But for nothing in the world would he have had it undone. Such a
shot!--such a shot! Rolled over on his back and died!

For it was this helpless position, lying on the back, that shouted its
direct evidence at General Feraud! It never occurred to him that
it might have been deliberately assumed by a living man. It was
inconceivable. It was beyond the range of sane supposition. There was no
possibility to guess the reason for it. And it must be said, too, that
General D'Hubert's turned-up feet looked thoroughly dead. General Feraud
expanded his lungs for a stentorian shout to his seconds, but, from what
he felt to be an excessive scrupulousness, refrained for a while.

"I will just go and see first whether he breathes yet," he mumbled
to himself, leaving carelessly the shelter of his tree. This move was
immediately perceived by the resourceful General D'Hubert. He concluded
it to be another shift, but when he lost the boots out of the field of
the mirror he became uneasy. General Feraud had only stepped a little
out of the line, but his adversary could not possibly have supposed him
walking up with perfect unconcern. General D'Hubert, beginning to wonder
at what had become of the other, was taken unawares so completely that
the first warning of danger consisted in the long, early-morning shadow
of his enemy falling aslant on his outstretched legs. He had not even
heard a footfall on the soft ground between the trees!

It was too