"Will you stand here?" he said to the sergeant-major. Without a word Heppner walked up to the mark. He carefully placed his feet with the toes against the marked line. Heimert went on another ten paces, not the leaping strides that are usually taken in arranging a duel, but fairly long ordinary paces. At the tenth he paused, and again dug his heel into the earth. The two men stood opposite to each other, separated by the terribly narrow interval of scarcely nine yards. "Cock your pistol, Heppner!" cried Heimert to him. And the sergeant-major did as the other desired. He seemed quite unaware of its being a matter of life and death; he moved as in a dream. Suddenly Heimert let out a curse. A difficulty had presented itself at the last moment, and threatened to upset his whole plan. How were they to shoot? By counting, of course. He had intended to count "one," then, after a couple of seconds by his watch, "two," and then again, after another couple of seconds, "three." Between "one" and "three" they were to fire. But, damn it all! how could he take aim if he was holding the watch in his hand and counting the seconds on the dial? Irresolutely he looked down at his watch. This was like a bad joke, and perfectly maddening. Suddenly an idea came to him. The minute-hand showed just two minutes to the hour. In two minutes then the barrack clock would strike three. That would be as good as counting. In a clear voice he called out to his opponent: "Listen to what I say, Heppner. In two minutes the clock down there will strike three times. At the first stroke we must lift our revolvers, before that they must be pointed to the ground. Between the first and the third strokes we may fire, but not after the third. Do you understand, and are you agreed?" For the first time the sergeant-major made an articulate sound. "All right," he said. His voice sounded husky, and he cleared his throat. "Very good," said Heimert; "then it's all settled." He took up his position, and looked coolly before him. The moon shone down from a clear sky. A single light cloud floated against the dark background, looking like a little white skiff. Heppner watched the cloud. He tried to think how he came to be in this place, up on the hill in the wood, in the middle of the night, like this. He could not quite make it out. More than all there weighed on him a leaden feeling of weariness. He would have liked to throw himself down on the bare earth. The seconds dragged on slowly. Suddenly a night-bird screamed loudly from a neighbouring tree-top, and immediately afterwards sounded the first stroke of the hour. The sergeant-major pulled himself up. With suddenly awakened senses he looked about him. Opposite him stood Heimert with his revolver, and he himself felt the butt-end of a weapon in his right hand.