The scene of conflict was a little snow-covered glade; distances were measured, and the weapons examined. Blanden knew no fear, not even fear of death, but the full consciousness of the nonentity of existence overcame him. There was nothing appalling for him in death, but something almost humiliating. It was miserable, full of thoughts which grasp a world to be hurled to the ground by a piece of rattling metal, which pierces one in rapid flight, which even an old decayed tree stem can defy; it was too wretched to lie here bedded in the snow like any crow shot down from the grey wintry sky by the sportsman's gun, so that the wings of the mind hang down paralysed and dead for evermore, like the wings of the hideous bird which just now croaked so loudly for prey and food.
Lifeless lead--and instead of the agitated spirit's notes of exclamation and interrogation, that one great line which ends this chapter of life, and perhaps the whole book.
And, yet, it is easy to die on a frosty, winter's day, when all life cowers, when the trees stretch their bare summits into the misty grey atmosphere, and the shroud of snow lies upon all the forests and meadows. All nature shudders, as if renouncing every happiness.
But, no! One heart there is that beats anxiously for you; two eyes which already dedicate scalding tears to the dark possibility that menaces you; there, indeed, is life and happiness, and from these it is that you must part.
As is the case in all moments of most supreme tension, Blanden's mind saw such pictures and thoughts pass before him with a certain rigidity, and only awoke again as Kuhl pressed the pistols into his hand.
Attempts at reconciliation had not been made, the bitterness of the opponents was too great, those polite ceremonies, which had been made for form's sake, were dropped again immediately, as being perfectly futile.
As in a dream, Blanden saw the colossal officer step before him. He hated the man until that moment, then he was seized as with pity for such a sensual life, and then, again, with a change of thought, quick as lightning, his mind flew to recollections of his school days, and he thought of Homer and the Bible, which tell so accurately how many feet of earth such a mighty man covered in his fall.
Then in the midst of these dreamy thoughts, rang the call of the seconds, the fatal counting began, the shots fell, and behind the clouds of powder, each glance sought the falling opponent, but only Buschmann had the satisfaction of rejoicing in that spectacle.
Blanden sank to the ground, the officer's bullet had struck his breast.
Kuhl and the surgeon knelt beside him. Buschmann did not trouble himself about his victim, did not even vouchsafe a casual enquiry; with a hasty greeting, he left the scene of the conflict.