“Good-bye, Phil,” was all he said. Poor Quentin turned his face away as he clasped his hand, and he could only murmur:
“If he hits you, I'll kill him.”
A moment later the word “fire” came and the two men whirled into position. Dickey's arm went up like a flash, the other's more cruelly deliberate. Two loud reports followed in quick succession, the slim American's nervous finger pressed the trigger first. He had not taken aim. He had located his man's position before turning away, and the whole force of his will was bent on driving the bullet directly toward the spot he had in mind. Kapolski's bullet struck the wall above Dickey's head, his deadly aim spoiled by the quick, reckless shot from the other end of the room.
He lunged forward. Dickey's bullet had blown away part of the big Russian's chin and jaw, burying itself in the wall beyond.
XV. APPROACH OF THE CRISIS
Prince Ugo's face was livid, and his black eyes bulged with horrified amazement. The unscrupulous, daring, infallible duelist whom he had induced to try conclusions with Quentin in a regular and effective way, had been overthrown at the outset by a most peculiar transaction of fate. He had assured the Russian that Quentin was no match for him with the weapons common to dueling, and he had led him to believe that he was in little danger of injury, much less death. Kapolski, reckless, a despiser of all things American, eagerly consented to the plan, and Ugo saw a way to rid himself of a dangerous rival without the taint of suspicion besmirching his cloak. Sallaconi was an accomplished swordsman, but it would have been unwise to send him against Quentin. Ugo himself was a splendid shot and an expert with the blade, and it was not cowardice that kept him from taking the affair in his own hands. It was wisdom, cunning wisdom, that urged him to stand aloof and to go up to his wedding day with no scandal at his back. But the unexpected, the miraculous had happened. His friend, his brother prince, his unwitting tool, had gone down like a log, his vaunted skill surpassed by the marksmanship and courage of an accursed American.
To his credit be it said that he did all in his power to preserve the life of Prince Kapolski. More than that, he did all that was possible to keep the story of the encounter from reaching the world. So powerful, so successful was his influence that the world at large knew nothing of the fight, the police were bribed, and the newspapers were thrown completely off the scent.
Ugo's first thought after the fall of Kapolski was to prevent his opponent from leaving the room alive, but common sense came to his relief a second later, and he saw the folly of taking a stand against the victor. He rushed to Kapolski's side and helped to support the moaning man's body. The surgeon was there an instant later, and Dickey, as white as a ghost, started mechanically toward the fallen foe. Ouentin stood like a man of stone, stunned by relief and surprise. One glance at the bloody, lacerated face and the rolling eyes caused Savage to flee as if pursued by devils.
For hours Quentin and Turk sought to comfort and to quiet him; the millionaire, who refused to desert them, sat up all night to manage the information bureau, as he called it. He personally inquired at Ugo's rooms, and always brought back reassuring news, which Quentin doubted and Dickey utterly disbelieved At four o'clock Prince Ugo himself, with Duke Laselli, came to Quentin's rooms with the word that Kapolski was to be taken to a hospital, and that Dr. Gassbeck pronounced his chance for recovery excellent. The prince assured Mr. Savage that secrecy would be preserved, but advised him to leave Brussels at the earliest possible moment. Kapolski's death, if it came, would command an investigation, and it would be better if he were where the law could not find him.