“I have weapons, if you insist, gentlemen,” said Ugo. At his words intense excitement prevailed, for now there could be no doubt as to the result of the quarrel. Count Sallaconi hurried away for the pistols, smiling significantly as he passed his prince. His smile said that Kapolski would kill two men that night.
“For God's sake, Dickey, be careful, if you must fight. Take deliberate aim and don't lose your nerve,” cried Quentin, grasping him by the arms. “You are as cold as ice.”
“I haven't fired a pistol more than a dozen times in my life,” said Dickey, smiling faintly.
“Then shoot low,” said the millionaire.
“Your second, Monsieur?” said the Austrian duke, coming to Savage's side.
“Mr. Quentin will act, Monsieur le Duc. We may need a surgeon.”
“Dr. Gassbeck is here.”
It was hurriedly agreed that the men should stand at opposite ends of the room, nearly twenty feet apart, back to back. At the word given by Prince Ugo, they were to turn and fire.
Sallaconi came in with the pistol case and the seconds examined the weapons carefully. A moment later the room was cleared except for the adversaries, the seconds, and Prince Ugo.
There was the stillness of death. On the face of the Russian there was an easy smile, for was not he a noted shot? Had he ever missed an adversary in a duel? Dickey was pale, but he did not tremble as he took the pistol in his hand.