There was a sound of hoofs in the street outside. The groom had brought the brown mare. He held the animal before the garden gate and carefully took a piece of straw out of her mane. Güntz told him to walk her quietly up and down. He must wait for Reimers, who would be sure to come directly. Soon in between the measured paces of the led horse came the sound of a quicker step. Güntz recognised the fidgety trot for that of Reimers horse "Jay." He went out of the house and through the iron gate into the street. "Morning, my boy!" he said, and offered his hand to Reimers. Then he mounted, and both trotted down the street in silence. Once outside the town Güntz let his mare slow down. "We are in plenty of time," he said. Suddenly he stopped and listened. A horse's trot and the rumbling of a carriage could be heard coming from the town. "The others," said the senior-lieutenant. "Let us get on." The pistol practice-ground lay half way up the incline upon a shelf-like terrace of the hillside, a smooth grassy space, surrounded on both sides by high bushes; at the lower end there was a shed built of strong boards, in which tools and targets were stored. Güntz and Reimers dismounted at the shed, and fastened up their horses by the bridle. Reimers pressed his friend's hand once more, gazing at him with anxious eyes. He could not speak. They stood side by side on the edge of the terrace, whence they could look down upon the country road in the valley below. A carriage was approaching, followed by three riders: Landsberg, little Dr. von Fröben, his second, and Gretzschel, who was brought chiefly to look after the horses. The carriage stopped at the foot of the hill. Kauerhof got out, with the pistol cases in his hand, and after him the surgeon-major and his assistant, both with instrument cases. The three other men rode slowly behind them up the steep incline. Before the shed, brief polite greetings were exchanged, Gretzschel remaining there with the horses. There was a singular expression of shyness on the faces of all. One might have fancied that these men were assembled for some guilty purpose. Güntz alone looked frank and unembarrassed. The prescribed attempts at reconciliation were unsuccessful. Güntz shook his head in refusal. Then Kauerhof began to measure the distance. He had long legs, and he made the fifteen paces as lengthy as possible. Just at this moment the sun rose above the mountains on the other side of the valley. Kauerhof loaded the pistols, and the seconds carried them to their principals. Güntz nodded cheerfully to Reimers as he took his weapon.