Suddenly a thought came to him: he began to put on gloves, fine, white kid gloves. Then he tried to clench his fist in them without tearing them.
Perhaps he does not wish to touch, with uncovered hands, him for whom he is waiting!
At last the street door opened, and steps made direct for his door.
Only let him come! but he, whom he expected did not come alone: the first to open his door was not Pepi Gyali, but his brother, Desiderius.
By chance they had met.
Lorand received his brother in a very spiritless manner. It was not he whom he wished to see now. Yet he rushed to embrace Lorand with a face beaming triumph.
"Well, and what has happened, that you are beaming so?"
"The school tribunal has acquitted me: yet I drew everything on myself and did not throw any suspicion on you."
"I hope you would be insulted if I praised you for it. Every ordinary man of honor would have done the same. It is just as little a merit not to be a traitor as it is a great ignominy to be one. Am I not right?
Pepi,--my friend?"
Pepi Gyali decided that Lorand could not have heard of his treachery and would not know it until he was placed in some safe place. He answered naturally enough that no greater disgrace existed on earth than that of treachery.
"But why did you summon me in such haste," he enquired, offering his hand confidently to Lorand; the latter allowed him to grasp his hand--on which was a glove.
"I merely wished to ask you if you would take my vis-a-vis in the ball to-night following my farewell banquet?"
"With the greatest pleasure. You need not even have asked me. Where you are, I must be also."
"Go upstairs, Desi, to the governess and ask her whether she intends to come to the ball to-night, or if the lady of the house is going alone."
Desiderius listlessly sauntered out of the room.
He thought that to-day was scarcely a suitable day to conclude with a ball; still he did go upstairs to the governess.
The young lady answered that she was not going for Melanie had a difficult "Cavatina" to learn that evening, but her ladyship was getting ready, and the stout aunt was going with her.
As Desiderius shut the door after him, Lorand stood with crossed arms before the dandy, and said:
"Do you know what kind of dance it is, in which I have invited you to be my vis-a-vis?"
"What kind?" asked Pepi with a playful expression.
"A kind of dance at which one of us must die." Therewith he handed him the lilac-coloured letter which Hermine had written to him: "Read that."
Gyali read these lines:
"Gyali handed over the alb.u.m-leaf you wrote on. All is betrayed."
The dandy smiled, and placed his hands behind him.
"Well, and what do you want with me?" he enquired with cool a.s.surance.
"What do you think I want?"
"Do you want to abuse me? We are alone, no one will hear us. If you wish to be rough with me, I shall shout and collect a crowd in the street: that will also be bad for you."
"I intend to do neither. You see I have put gloves on, that I may not befoul myself by touching you. Yet you can imagine that it is not customary to make a present of such a debt."
"Do you wish to fight a duel with me?"
"Yes, and at once: I shall not allow you out of my sight until you have given me satisfaction."
"Don"t expect that. Because you are a Hercules, and I a t.i.tmouse, don"t think I am overawed by your knitted eyebrows. If you so desire, I am ready."
"I like that."
"But you know that as the challenged, I have the right to choose weapons and method."
"Do so."
"And you will find it quite natural that I have no intention of being pummelled into a loaf of bread and devoured by you. I recommend the American duel. Let us put our names into a hat and he whose name is drawn is compelled to shoot himself."
Lorand was staggered. He recalled that night in the crypt.
"One of us must die; you said so yourself," remarked Gyali. "Good, I am not afraid of it. Let us draw lots, and then he whom fate chooses, must die."
Lorand gazed moodily before him, as if he were regarding things happening miles away.
"I understand your hesitation: there are others whom you would spare.
Well, let us fix a definite time for dying. How long can those, of whom you are thinking, live? Let us say ten years. He, whose name is drawn must shoot himself--to-day ten years."
"Oh," cried Lorand in a tone of vexation, "this is merely a cowardly subterfuge by which you wish to escape."
"Brave lion, you will fall just as soon, if you die, as the mouse. Your whole valor consists in being able to pin, with a round pin, a tiny little fly to the bottom of a box, but if you find an opponent, like yourself, you draw back before him."
"I shall not draw back," said Lorand irritated; and there appeared before his soul all those figures, which, pointing their fingers threateningly, rose before him from the depths of the earth. Headless phantoms returned to the seven cold beds; and the eighth was bespoken.
"Be it so," sighed Lorand: "let us write our names." Therewith he began to look for paper. But not a morsel was there in his room: all had been burned, clean paper too, that the water mark might not betray him. At last he came across Hermine"s note. There was no other alternative.
Tearing it in two,--one part he threw to Gyali, on the other he inscribed his own name.
Then they folded the pieces of paper and put them into a hat.
"Who shall draw?"
"You are the challenger."
"But you proposed the method."
"Wait a moment. Let us entrust the drawing of lots to a third party."
"To whom?"