"Have we permission to go outside our quarters, old fellows?"
"There is room enough for us in the yard," replied one of the hussars. Zébédé put on his great-coat, and, turning to me, said:
"Joseph, and you, Klipfel, I choose you for my seconds."
But I shook my head.
"Well, then, Furst," said he.
The whole party descended the stairs together. I thought Zébédé was lost, and thought it hard that not only must the Russians and Prussians seek our lives, but that we must seek each other's.
All the men in the room crowded to the windows. I alone remained behind, upon my bed. At the end of five minutes the clash of sabres made my heart almost cease to beat; the blood seemed no longer to flow through my veins.
But this did not last long; for suddenly Klipfel exclaimed, "Touched!"
Then I made my way—I know not how—to a window, and, looking over the heads of the others, saw the old hussar leaning against the wall, and Zébédé rising, his sabre all dripping with blood. He had fallen upon his knees during the fight, and, while the old man's sword pierced the air just above his shoulder, he plunged his blade into the hussar's breast. If he had not slipped, he himself would have been run through and through.
The hussar sank at the foot of the wall. His seconds lifted him in their arms, while Zébédé, pale as a corpse, gazed at his bloody sabre.