"Be off, man," he reiterated with increased severity. "Go somewhere else."
The servant then left the garden, casting looks of astonishment and curiosity behind him.
A place was chosen in one of the narrowest paths in the centre of the garden, and Soldevilla went to fetch the duke.
Dawn broke that day in a clear sky; but very early after sunrise heavy, dark clouds gathered over that part of the coast, threatening an early discharge of heavy rain.
The light grew dimmer and dimmer to an extraordinary degree until it waned to a misty gray.
The duke appeared in a black frock coat and broad-brimmed hat, rather paler than usual, but affecting a calm disdain, coupled with his usual courtesy. He had a fragrant cigar in his mouth with which he enveloped himself in light clouds of smoke as he walked by the side of Soldevilla.
Arriving at the appointed spot he gave a cold ceremonious greeting to the group of Gonzalo and his seconds, and vouchsafed them no further glance. After a few minutes' conference Peña put Gonzalo in position and handed him a loaded pistol. Soldevilla did the same with the duke. They had both removed their hats. The grandee retained his cigar in his left hand, and, with an impassibility which savored of the theatrical, he gave long puffs at it. Great drops of rain, heralding a sharp shower, began to fall; and Peña finally called out:
"Gentlemen, are you ready? One, two, three!—fire!"
The duke inclined his pistol and aimed. Gonzalo, also aiming, came forward with a pale face and with his eyes starting with fury.
His opponent waited until he arrived within fifteen paces with calmness, and moreover with the certainty of victory, for he was a consummate shot, and then fired.