He reminded her that it was Rhaden and no other who had challenged him.
"But couldn't you have shot in the air?" she inquired. "It is so often done."
"You don't understand, dear," he answered. "If I had been brought home dead, you would have had even a greater trial to bear on my account. Rhaden, you know, never jested."
She knew, indeed, that his aim was unerring, and realised for the first time the danger which had hovered over her son. She patted his cheeks, full of anxiety, as if even to-day she might be robbed of him.
"You are right; you are right!" she murmured, "I told Felicitas so when she accepted him. He was always a cruel, revengeful character."
"Don't abuse him, mother," he said seriously. "He is dead--and when we have had it out once for all, let us leave this ugly story alone for ever. It has cost every one concerned a good slice of their life's happiness. It is time that we buried it."
She wiped the tears out of the corners of her eyes and looked once more placid content.
"I may talk of Felicitas, I suppose?" she asked.
"Why not?" he said undecidedly, and examined his tobacco-stained finger-nails.
"What do you think of that marriage?" she broke forth. "Fancy Uli? Who would have thought of such a thing?"