He came into the carriage, bringing a rather ostentatious looking case of instruments and roll of bandages.
On being introduced by the second, he bowed to the duke and took his seat.
The carriage started again.
It was yet dark.
After an hour"s ride they reached a quiet, solitary glade in the wood of Vincennes.
The carriage drove up under some trees on one side.
It was yet earliest morning, and the glade lay in the darksome, dewy freshness of the dawn. There was no living creature to be seen.
"We are the first on the ground, as I always like to be," remarked Colonel Morris, as he alighted from the carriage, bearing the pistol-case in his hands.
He was followed by the duke, who slowly came out, stood by his side and looked around.
The young surgeon remained in the carriage in charge of his very suggestive and alarming instruments and appliances.
"The sun is just rising," said the duke, as the first rays sparkled up above the rosy line of the eastern horizon.
"And look, with dramatic precision, there are our men," cheerfully remarked the colonel, as a second carriage rolled into the glade and drew up under the trees at a short distance from the first.
The carriage door was thrown open and the Russian Baron Blomonozoff came out--a thin, ferocious-looking little man, with a red face, encircled by a red beard and red hair, of all of which it would be difficult to say which was reddest.
He was followed by the beautiful Adonis, the Count de Volaski, looking very fair and dainty, very languid and melancholy.
The four gentlemen simultaneously raised their hats in courteous greeting; but no words pa.s.sed between them then.
The seconds advanced toward each other, and went apart to settle the final details of the meeting. They divided their duties equally.
The colonel gave the pistol-case to the baron, who opened it and examined the weapons. The colonel stepped off the ten paces of ground, and the baron marked the positions to be taken by the antagonists.
Then each went after his man and placed him in position. Then the Colonel took the case of pistols and placed it in the hands of the baron, who carried it to his princ.i.p.al, that the latter might take his choice of the pair of revolvers, in accordance with the terms of the meeting.
The count took the first that came to hand. The baron carried back the case to the colonel, who placed the remaining weapon in the hands of the duke.
The antagonists stood opposite each other in a line of ten paces running north and south, so that the sun was equally divided between them. The seconds stood opposite each other, in a line of six paces running east and west, across the line of their princ.i.p.als; so that the positions of the four men, as they stood, formed the four points of a diamond.
They stood prepared for the mortal issue.
A fatal catastrophe is always sudden and soon over.
The final question was asked by the duke"s second:
"Gentlemen, are you ready?"
"We are," responded both princ.i.p.als.
"One--two--three--FIRE!" intoned the Russian baron.
Two flashes, a simultaneous report, and the Count de Volaski leaped into the air and fell down, with a heavy thud, upon his face!
The seconds hastened to raise the fallen man. The duke stood panic-stricken for an instant, and then followed them.
The unfortunate count lay in a tumbled, huddled, shapeless heap, with his head bent under him. Not a drop of blood was to be seen on his person or clothing. The Russian baron raised him up. There was a gasp, a momentary flutter of the lips and eyelids, and all was still.
The colonel hurried off to the carriage to call the surgeon.
The duke stood gazing on his murdered foe, aghast at his own deed and feeling the brand of Cain upon his brow, notwithstanding that he had acted in accordance with the "code of honor."
The surgeon came in haste with his box of instruments in his hands, and the roll of linen under his arm.
He put these articles on the ground, and knelt down to examine his subject; for the body of the count was only a subject now, and not a patient.
After a careful investigation, the surgeon arose and p.r.o.nounced his verdict.
"Shot through the heart: quite dead."
The Duke of Hereward groaned aloud. None of his wrongs could have been such a calamity as this! None of his sufferings could have equalled in intensity of agony this appalling sense of blood-guiltiness!
"Can _nothing_ be done?" he inquired, not with the slightest hope that anything could, but rather in the idiocy of utter despair.
"Nothing. No medical skill can raise the dead," solemnly answered the surgeon.
"One of you fellows can bring the railway rug out of our carriage. I knew it would be needed," said the serenely practical colonel.
The count"s servant started to obey.
The duke groaned and turned away from the body of his fallen foe, upon which he could not endure longer to gaze.
The Russian baron came up to him, and with the knightly courtesy of his caste and country, said:
"Monseigneur may rest tranquil. Everything has been conducted in accordance with the most rigid rules of honor. The result has been unfortunate for my distinguished princ.i.p.al, but Monseigneur has nothing with which to reproach himself."
"Thanks, Baron. You are kind to say so. Yet I would that I had never lived to see this day; or the worthless woman who has caused this catastrophe!" exclaimed the duke, as he walked hurriedly away and hid himself and his remorse in the inclosure of his own carriage.
There he was soon joined by his serene second, who entered the carriage and gave the order to the coachman;
"Drive to the Depot St. Lazare."
"Why to the depot?" gloomily inquired the duke, as the coachman closed the door and remounted to his box.
"Because we must get out of Paris--yes, and out of France also," calmly replied the colonel, sinking back in his seat as the cab drove off.
"Who is looking after--after--"
"The body? I left Legare to help Blomonozoff and his servant to remove it. We must get away. An arrest would not be pleasant."