'I'll have this one,' he said; as he touched it the weapon seemed icy cold.
'Then now I have done what was required of me,' said Masters. 'The rest is for you gentlemen to carry out.'
'Take this one, Simpson,' said Hepplewhite. 'And be careful how you handle yours, Mr Hornblower. You're a public danger.'
The man was still grinning, gloating over the fact that someone else was in mortal danger while he himself was in none. Simpson took the pistol Hepplewhite offered him and settled it into his hand; once more his eyes met Hornblower's, but there was neither recognition nor expression in them.
'There are no distances to step out,' Danvers was saying. 'One spot's as good as another. It's level enough here.'
'Very good,' said Hether. 'Will you stand here, Mr Simpson?'
Preston beckoned to Hornblower, who walked over. It was not easy to appear brisk and unconcerned. Preston took him by the arm and stood him up in front of Simpson, almost breast to breast — close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath.
'For the last time, gentlemen,' said Masters loudly. 'Cannot you be reconciled?'
There was no answer from anybody, only deep silence, during which it seemed to Hornblower that the frantic beating of his heart must be clearly audible. The silence was broken by an exclamation from Hether.
'We haven't settled who's to give the word!' he said. 'Who's going to?'