Moreno was so moved by this proof of confidence in him that he was forced to raise a hand to his eyes. Then he stood up to grasp the Italian’s hand, and with broken phrases expressed his intention of fulfilling with the utmost exactitude the obligation laid upon him. He vowed that he would devote himself to the care of his friend’s daughter and fortune, if the duel should result fatally for him.
. . . . . . . . . .
Sunrise; a meadow overgrown with fine grass, along the river bank; at the far end, some old willows, their roots half exposed to the air. Slowly dying, they lay across the stream, and it seemed as though at any moment they might fall into it.
A gloomy spot at best; and it was here that Elena’s friends had elected to fight their duel. The light striking horizontally and almost level with the surface of the ground, elongated the shadows of the human figures and the trees, making them seem fantastic and unreal.
Pirovani arrived first, escorted by Moreno and don Carlos, all of them dressed in black. But the contractor was distinguished from those who accompanied him by his coat, which was new and of a solemn cut. He had received it the preceding week from Buenos Aires. It was the creation of a well-known tailor there of whom he had ordered a complete outfit of clothes similar to those made for the most fastidious millionaires of the capital.
Behind this group came a tall, heavy old man, whose nose was purplish and bulbous, due to excessive use of alcohol through a long and prosperous life. He carried a surgeon’s instrument case. This was the doctor whom Rojas had gone to fetch the day before.
A few minutes later Canterac, Torre Bianca and Watson arrived. The captain and the marqués wore long frock coats, less striking than Pirovani’s, and black neckties, just as though they were officiating at a funeral. Watson alone wore a dark-colored business suit.
After ceremoniously saluting his antagonist and the latter’s seconds from afar, Canterac began to walk up and down along the river bank, pretending to amuse himself watching the birds who were displaying their customary morning animation, or throwing stones into the current. The contractor did not wish to make a less gallant showing; bent on imitating the captain in everything, he also walked up and down near the willows, and looked at the river. And thus both of them continued promenading up and down, like two automatons, each on that part of the bank he had selected.
Torre Bianca, who because of his experience in such matters, directed the arrangements, began to pace out distances. He asked Watson for the two canes that the latter had foresightedly brought with him, and stuck one into the ground. Then he looked toward the sun with one hand over his eyes in order to discover just how the light struck; and then once more he measured out twenty paces.
“Twenty,” he said, and stuck in the second cane.