"There is yet time," he said, "for a little word of apology, and all mischief will be avoided."
"You know I am always ready to bear the consequences of my words and actions," replied Herr von Stielow; "to draw back now would be unworthy and cowardly. But make yourself easy--I, at least, will do no mischief."
He took the pistols. The seconds stepped aside.
The opponents saluted with their weapons.
The count looked fresh and calm, and showed no trace of emotion.
He had the first shot, and the right of advancing to the barrier.
He did not take a step forward, but raised his pistol, lowered it slightly, and fired.
Lieutenant von Stielow's képi flew from his head--the ball had hit the upper rim.
The lieutenant raised his arm, took aim for a moment, but, as the seconds could see, much too high, and the ball flew two feet above his adversary's head.
"Count," said the lieutenant, with calm courtesy, "what honour and custom amongst those of our position required, is now accomplished. I beg to apologize for my words of yesterday."