With these words he opened a parcel containing an alarm-clock.
"I've set the alarm for ten minutes past six," he said. "You can test it, if you like. When it goes off we will fire, changing places if we like. It's all put down in the statement."
I couldn't say whether tragedy or absurdity was the more conspicuous feature of the proceedings.
Hagen paced out the distance.
"Eight, nine, ten. Herr Professor, you're a little taller than I. Will you pace it out too, and if you like, we'll take the mean."
"It doesn't matter," I said. "This is all right for me."
He bowed and drew his revolver from his pocket.
"Seven minutes past," he said. "We'd better take our places."
I toed the line he had drawn at the start. We were now face to face.
The clock was placed on the parapet of the bridge, where we could both see its face. Its sharp ticking sounded above the distant roar of the river.