A cold tremor ran down Kolberg’s spine as he saw the tall, powerful man pitch forward, and for a moment he remained, his smoking pistol lifted, rooted to the spot. Then the weapon slipped from his hand. The others, however, immediately ran towards the major, and the surgeons tore open his coat. There was a small hole in his chest, and the blood began to ooze from it. Kahle had lost consciousness for a second only. Now he lay there, pale, and gazing steadily at the men busily engaged about him. Kolberg also approached, holding out his hand in token of amity; but he quickly withdrew his hand and retreated out of sight, for a cold, repellent look from Kahle’s eyes had met his. From some short distance in the rear, out of the reach of those severe eyes, he attentively viewed his prostrate foe; then he turned on his heels and made off through the woods, towards the cabs. The major’s wound, however, was found to be not fatal, although the bullet had grazed the lungs, and a long time would have to elapse before he would be up and about once more. One of the cabs was driven up and the major carefully lifted into it. The two surgeons accompanied him inside, while his second occupied the place next the driver. Thereupon they drove back at a slow gait to the city, where the injured man was to be at once taken to the hospital. After he had taken farewell from the two judges as the vehicle reached the outskirts of the town, Borgert, who remained with Kolberg, slapped the latter encouragingly on the shoulder and said: “Don’t make such a wry face, man alive! Be satisfied that you got off with a whole skin. Of course, it was rough on the poor devil that you happened to hit him in the chest; but that’s something you are not responsible for; after all, the challenge came from him. And now let’s have a good breakfast, for my stomach rebels against this raw air. I am not accustomed to knock about the woods so early in the morning.” “I feel sincerely sorry that I hit the major so unluckily,” replied Kolberg; “but I didn’t mean to, and the devil take the women! It’s always their doing. I don’t know anyway what made me take up with that silly Kahle woman!” “Don’t bother your head about that, my dear fellow,” said Borgert. “The major alone is to blame, for he ought to have looked out better for that handsome wife of his. And as for her, she is not worth a thought, as we all know. One must treat a woman as she deserves.” Borgert’s specious eloquence succeeded in a short while in dispelling the clouds from Kolberg’s face, for to his callous perceptions all that the other had said was true. That there were heartless and vulgar sentiments contained in Borgert’s words he neither understood nor cared about.