The poor fellow attended to my instructions in a mechanical, half-dazed fashion; he was utterly without hope, indeed, clearly in the apathy of despair. But we did our best to cheer him, and I took pains to impress upon him one or two wrinkles which might possibly give a slender chance in his favour.
In the dull grey of a chilly dawn we set out for the place of meeting, and certainly it was the most disagreeable errand on which I ever started. On the way my companion tried to talk on different subjects, even to jest on his situation and its almost certain issue; but it was all so hideously forced as a cover to his despair, that it would have been far less painful to me had he kept silence.
The rendezvous was a short distance outside the city, the less frequented side of a common bordered by a plantation. Being before our time we were first on the ground, and I utilized the interval of waiting in reiterating the instructions I already had given Szalay; but he was in such a piteous state of nervousness that to me, as the affair had to be gone through with, it was a relief when the other party appeared. They were three: De Hayn, Paulssen, and a professional-looking person, evidently the surgeon whom Paulssen had arranged to bring.
It seemed as though the sight of the trio and the approach of the critical moment had the effect of steadying Szalay’s nerves somewhat.
“So they have brought the doctor,” he laughed; “it is just as well to do everything in order, even a murder.”
“The chances are if he hits you it won’t be in a vital part,” I said to comfort him. “Now, mind; take steady aim on the first sight and get your fire in before his, it’s your best chance.”
The account given of the fire-eating Captain de Hayn had not been over-coloured. It seemed impossible that five feet four inches of humanity could hold a greater quantity of truculent conceit than was manifestly compressed into his personality. A greater contrast between this business-like little butcher, with his bronzed—and brazen—countenance, and poor Szalay, trying to control his shaking nerves and keep a manly look on his grey face, could not be imagined. Principals and seconds saluted punctiliously, and the doctor gave Szalay and me a bow, his expression being nicely differentiated as between the humane reserve towards a dying patient, and the grave announcement of a hopeless case to his friends.
Paulssen and I measured the ground, while the doctor, with professional glib deliberation, set out his case of instruments.
All was ready; we placed our men.
“Bring down your pistol with decision, and fire first,” I again enjoined in a whisper.