“If I should fall,” said the prebendary to his second, in an undertone, but loud enough for his opponent to hear every word he said, “tell the dear city of Vienna and my friends that I have fought a duel with Prince Lichtenstein because he was my rival with the beautiful Baroness Arnstein, and that I have died with the conviction that he was the lover of the fair lady.”
A pause ensued. The seconds conducted the two gentlemen to their designated places and then stood back, in order to give the fatal signals.
When they clapped for the first time, the two duellists raised the hand with the pistol, fixing their angry and threatening eyes on each other.
Then followed the second, the third signal.
Two shots were fired at the same time.
The prebendary stood firmly and calmly where he had discharged his weapon, the same defiant smile playing on his lips, and the same threatening expression beaming in his eyes.
Prince Charles von Lichtenstein lay on the ground, reddening the earth with the blood which was rushing from his breast. When Baron Arnstein bent over him, he raised his eyes with a last look toward him. “Take her my last love-greetings,” he breathed, in a scarcely audible voice. “Tell her that I—”
His voice gave way, and with the last awful death-rattle a stream of blood poured from his mouth.
“Hasten to save yourself,” shouted Count Palfy to the prebendary, who had been looking at the dying man from his stand-point with cold, inquisitive glances. “Flee, for you have killed the prince; he has already ceased to breathe. Flee! In the shrubbery below you will find my carriage, which will convey you rapidly to the next post-station.”
“He is dead and I am alive!” said the prebendary, quietly. “It would not have been worth while to die for the sake of a woman because she has got another lover. It is much wiser in such cases to kill the rival, and thus to remove the obstacle separating us from the woman. But I shall not escape; on the contrary, I shall go to the emperor myself, and inform him of what has occurred here. We are living in times of war and carnage, and a soul more or less is, therefore, of no great importance. Inasmuch as the emperor constantly sends hundreds of thousands of his innocent and harmless subjects to fight duels with enemies of whom they do not even know why they are their enemies, he will deem it but a matter of course that two of his subjects, who know very well why they are enemies, should fight a duel, and hence I am sure that his majesty will forgive me. Brave and intrepid men are not sent to the fortress. I shall not flee!”