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 up. He displayed a manifest relish for the task, and was evidently an old campaigner in this sort of thing.

He had scarcely concluded his work when the other party arrived, bringing with them a doctor. They saluted us formally, and without any delay the seconds consulted together, decided upon the ground, and selected the weapons.

While they were thus engaged Ristich and I stood apart, and I saw that he was very pale and moody-looking, glancing every now and again at me with patent ill-feeling and animosity.

"Ristich has got his marching orders," said Spernow to me, when he and Zoiloff came to explain what they had arranged.

"How do you mean?"

"He is being sent back to Russia, and leaves to-*day."

"I heard him declare he wanted to go," said I.

"Yes, but not in semi-disgrace. He puts it down to you, and that's what makes him so bitter. They tell me he raged like a fiend when he heard it last night, and he means mischief."

I glanced across at him. He had thrown off his uniform, and I saw, too, that his sword-arm was bandaged. Till that moment I had forgotten all about the wound I had inflicted.

"Stay a moment," I cried to my seconds. "He is wounded. I can't fight a disabled man," and I told them what had occurred.

"That's his lookout," said Zoiloff, in a very business-like tone. "He is the challenger."

"I won't fight a cripple," I said resolutely; and at that they called the other seconds aside, and a long conference ensued, in the course of which Ristich was