If I had been less excited than I was this question would have been a very awkward one. As it happened, I didn't hesitate.
"This," I replied, drawing the Grand Duchess's revolver from my pocket.
I could see it was a shock, but he concealed it.
"It's not exactly usual, is it?" he said. "But, after all, what does it matter? All right. Seven shots at discretion, immediately after the signal. What about the distance?"
"Ten paces," I replied, utterly indifferent to what I was saying.
A sickly smile wreathed his mouth.
"A duel to the death then, monsieur. It shall be as you wish."
He turned and left me.
I found the Grand Duchess in her room. I had not been there since the tragedy. She beckoned to me to sit down, but did not speak. Gradually darkness descended upon us. The lamp which burned before the ikon began to glow. Melusine's guzla was still lying on the carpet. Our thoughts were the same. They dwelt on that other glorious instrument of delight, already a prey to the mysterious transformations of death, which also would never vibrate again.
* * * * * *