George's words recurred to him; evidently Georges suspected something wrong, that was clear,--but what? the contents of that letter he could not suspect. But what if it were true? What if some one should discover it? Every one would flee from him, even those who had loved him most. And on a sudden he himself felt a fearful, paralysing disgust at the blood in his veins! A dull lump seemed to rise in his throat,--it choked him. 'But it cannot be,' he said to himself, 'it cannot be.' Then he sat still for a long time, scarcely daring even to think; he himself did not know for how long, but when at last the door opened and Georges entered, he noticed that it had begun to grow dark. "Well--the affair is settled!" began Georges gloomily. "For when?" "To-morrow morning at six o'clock--devil that he is, it could not be soon enough for him; he pretended that he must leave for Paris in the evening; probably he thought that if the duel were delayed you might reconsider it, and instead of giving him satisfaction for the insult of which he complains, add to it the thrashing which he deserves." Oswald sat leaning his head on his hand and did not speak. "God knows, I would not have gone to him," Georges went on, "if I had not hoped to arrange matters amicably, even against your will,--if I had not thought I could persuade him to withdraw his crazy challenge! But the swindler has resolved to fight you; it is the greatest social triumph that he has achieved in all the years that he has been trying to climb. Kilary told me, in so many words, that it was only for show, that it was to be a mere formality,--but--. Even that cynic, Kilary, declares that he cannot understand your condescension. Well, you rank so high in public opinion, that people will only wonder at your eccentricity. Will you say good-bye to Fritz, or shall we go immediately?" Fritz had fallen asleep, Oswald would not disturb him, and so they rode off. There must have been a storm in the neighbourhood; the air had grown cooler, a light wind whirled the dust aloft. Heavy broken clouds were driving overhead, and where the sun had set there was a glow as of a conflagration, as if the sun in descending had set fire to the clouds. The red light slowly faded, and all colours were merged in melancholy, uniform gray. The two men rode on in silence, which was broken at last by Oswald; "Georges, I know that if this affair turns out badly to-morrow you will be blamed for your share in it, blameless though you be. Wherefore I will leave a letter behind me, telling how I absolutely forced you to be my second." "What an idea!" exclaimed Georges angrily; then he added affectionately--"if so terrible a misfortune should occur, I should have neither heart nor head to care what people said! Moreover, after what Kilary told me, there can be no chance of any tragical conclusion to the affair." "One never can tell," rejoined Oswald.