And Reimers answered, "Good-night, my dear Güntz." Güntz put his bicycle carefully away, and then quietly went upstairs. During the summer months, when his duty sometimes began at five o'clock or even earlier, he occupied a small bedroom next to the larger one in which his wife and child slept. But the door of communication between the two rooms was always open. In a few rapid movements he took off his sword and his spurred boots. Then he went to the door of the bedroom and listened in the darkness. A slight breeze came from the garden and moved the lowered window-blind with the regularity of a pendulum. Somewhere in the grass a cricket was chirping; and through the slight noises the deep contented breathing of the two sleepers could be heard, slow and deep the mother's, and the child's soft and light. Güntz leant against the lintel and listened lovingly to the sweet, regular sounds. This room contained a world of happiness for him; and the breathing of his sleeping dear ones was to him the most priceless music. Suddenly he shivered in the warm August air. An over-powering fatigue almost paralysed his limbs, and one single horrible thought filled his mind. Wearily he pulled off his clothes, and was soon wrapped in heavy sleep. The court of honour endorsed the challenge but it modified the terms, arranging that instead of three interchanges of shots there should be two, at fifteen paces. The duel was to take place early the next morning, at half-past five, on the pistol-practice ground of the regiment. After Reimers had presented the challenge to Landsberg, he made all the necessary arrangements to act as his friend's second. He whispered the time and the place to Güntz while at the table in the orderly-room signing despatches. The senior-lieutenant nodded curtly, and answered: "Right; I'll speak to you later." Sergeant-major Heppner approached him, and said: "At what time to-morrow morning do you wish the battery to be ready for the tactical exercises, sir?" Güntz was at once on the spot. He signed the order and leant back. "To-morrow? H'm!" he murmured. The duel was to take place at half-past five. He considered; in a quarter of an hour one could easily cover the short distance between the shooting-ground and the barracks. "Six sharp," he then answered decisively. Heppner replied: "Yes, sir, six o'clock;" and wrote the time in the order-book. "Yes, six o'clock," repeated Güntz. If it were no longer possible for him, then Reimers would command the battery. It was Wednesday, the day on which Reimers was engaged to dine with the Güntzes. He would have excused himself, so that his friend should devote himself undisturbed to his wife and child, but Güntz refused: "Nothing of the kind, my boy. Why, Kläre might smell a rat! No, no! you must come. But you'll have to put on another expression, you know!" So Reimers went, but left unusually early, and when he returned to his quarters Gähler handed him a letter from Falkenhein.