"I should advise your husband," said Felix, laughing, "not to venture upon such an encounter without a rifle, and possibly a good stout hunting-knife by his side. But seriously, professor, will you come and let us have a little shooting at a mark?"
"Certainly, certainly!" cried the minister, starting up; "I am at your service, at your service."
The reverend gentleman had turned rather pale; from his excitement one might have imagined he was rushing to fight a duel where his life was in deadly peril.
"Had you not better stay here?" asked Primula, who suddenly took a very dismal view of the matter. "You are not quite as composed to-day as usual. If an accident should happen just now, when you have reached the goal of your wishes, Jager, I should not survive it," and the poetess broke out in tears and clung to her husband, whose efforts to relieve himself of the sweet burden were by no means very energetic.
"Gustava," he whispered, "dearest Gussy, it is not so dangerous as you fancy. Are your pistols provided with hair-triggers, baron?"
"Certainly," replied Felix, not a little amused by this scene. "When they are cocked you must not sneeze, or I will not be responsible for the consequences."
"Stay, oh stay! husband mine!" Primula said imploringly.
"I suppose there is not much danger," said the minister, his lips pale with terror.
"So said a friend of mine the other day," added Felix. "Have a care, said I.--Nonsense said he, and took the pistol by the mouth. The next moment he had lost one of his fingers."
"That is decisive," said Primula, rising; "Jager, you stay, I insist upon it, I command you to stay. Do not meddle with things of which you know nothing. Pistol-shooting is no child's play."