"Have I!" he echoed. "If I haven't had a time of it, I should like to know!"
"Well, it is all over," said I, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling into his questioning eyes. "Now if you will excuse me, cousin mine, I'll make a call on her Serene Highness the Princess Hildegarde."
Just then the door opened and Pembroke's valet came in. He handed a card to me, and I read upon it, "Count von Walden." I cast it into Pembroke's lap.
"That's the man. He is the inseparable of the Prince of Wortumborg."
Then to the valet, "Show him up."
"What's it all about?" asked Pembroke.
"Honestly, I should like to run away," I said musingly. The snow on the housetops across the way sparkled in the early moonshine. "It's about a woman. If I live—ah!" I went to the door and swung it open. The Count gravely passed over the threshold.
"Good evening," he said, with a look of inquiry at Pembroke.
"This gentleman," said I, as I introduced him, "will second me in the affair to-morrow morning. I suppose you have come to make the final arrangements?"
"Pardon me," began Pembroke, "but I do not understand—"
"Oh, I forgot. You are," I responded, "to be my second in a duel to-morrow morning. Should anything happen to me, it were well to have a friend near by, better still a relative. Well, Count?"