Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Short stories
inconceivably deep as to affect the dictates of his instinct, or simply
because, as he himself declared afterwards, he was “too scared to remember
the confounded pistols,” the fact is that General D’Hubert never attempted
to stoop for them. Instead of going back on his mistake, he seized the
rough trunk with both hands, and swung himself behind it with such
impetuosity that, going right round in the very flash and report of the
pistol-shot, he reappeared on the other side of the tree face to face with
General Feraud. This last, completely unstrung by such a show of agility
on the part of a dead man, was trembling yet. A very faint mist of smoke
hung before his face which had an extraordinary aspect, as if the lower
jaw had come unhinged.
</p>
<p>
“Not missed!” he croaked, hoarsely, from the depths of a dry throat.
</p>
<p>
This sinister sound loosened the spell that had fallen on General
D’Hubert’s senses. “Yes, missed—a bout portant,” he heard himself
saying, almost before he had recovered the full command of his faculties.
The revulsion of feeling was accompanied by a gust of homicidal fury,
resuming in its violence the accumulated resentment of a lifetime. For
years General D ‘Hubert had been exasperated and humiliated by an
atrocious absurdity imposed upon him by this man’s savage caprice.
Besides, General D’Hubert had been in this last instance too unwilling to
confront death for the reaction of his anguish not to take the shape of a
desire to kill. “And I have my two shots to fire yet,” he added,
pitilessly.
</p>
<p>
General Feraud snapped-to his teeth, and his face assumed an irate,
undaunted expression. “Go on!” he said, grimly.
</p>
<p>
These would have been his last words if General D’Hubert had been holding
the pistols in his hands. But the pistols were lying on the ground at the
foot of a pine. General D’Hubert had the second of leisure necessary to
remember that he had dreaded death not as a man, but as a lover; not as a
danger, but as a rival; not as a foe to life, but as an obstacle to
marriage. And behold! there was the rival defeated!—utterly
defeated, crushed, done for!
</p>
<p>
He picked up the weapons mechanically, and, instead of firing them into
General Feraud’s breast, he gave expression to the thoughts uppermost in
his mind, “You will fight no more duels now.”
</p>
<p>
His tone of leisurely, ineffable satisfaction was too much for General
Feraud’s stoicism. “Don’t dawdle, then, damn you for a cold-blooded
staff-coxcomb!” he roared out, suddenly, out of an impassive face held
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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