"I have got yours," he said, "and you have mine. And now we'll wait till the sentry has gone round the corner."
He leant out of the window cautiously, and took a look round. The moon was in the zenith; houses, trees, and bushes cast but short shadows. The sentinel was strolling along by the hedge of the jumping-ground. His sword was in the scabbard, and he had buried his hands deep in his breeches-pockets. Every now and then the lubberly fellow would whistle a stave, or stand still and kick a stone from his path, or gape so loudly that the moon shone into his open mouth. At last he disappeared round a corner of the buildings.
"Now!" whispered Heimert. "You go first, but take off your sword."
Obediently Heppner unbuckled his belt and laid it down. He pushed the revolver carefully into his coat-pocket, and swung himself out of the window. The deputy sergeant-major extinguished the lamp and followed him.
Side by side, like two good friends, the two men climbed the path that led up the hill-side; Heimert striding on with quiet even pace, and Heppner, with unsteady knees and panting breast, trying involuntarily to keep step with the other man.
They vanished into the deep shadow of the wood, and after a short time stepped out again into the bright moonlight above. The moon was almost exactly overhead.
The deputy sergeant-major went thoughtfully along the path till he arrived at the spot where the ascent ceased and the ground became quite level.
"This is the best place, I think," he said. With the spurred heel of his riding-boot he drew a deep furrow in the clayey soil.
"Will you stand here?" he said to the sergeant-major. Without a word Heppner walked up to the mark. He carefully placed his feet with the toes against the marked line. Heimert went on another ten paces, not the leaping strides that are usually taken in arranging a duel, but fairly long ordinary paces.
At the tenth he paused, and again dug his heel into the earth.