"But, good heavens, Petr' Andréjïtch, what folly have you got in your head? You and Alexey Iványtch have insulted one another; well, a fine affair! You needn't wear an insult hung round your neck. He has said silly things to you, give him some impertinence; he in return will give you a blow, give him in return a box on the ear; he another, you another, and then you part. And presently we oblige you to make peace. Whereas now--is it a good thing to kill your neighbour, if I may presume to ask you? Even if it were _you_ who should kill _him_! May heaven be with him, for I do not love him. But if it be he who is to run you through, you will have made a nice business of it. Who will pay for the broken pots, allow me to ask?" The arguments of the prudent officer did not deter me. My resolution remained firm. "As you like," said Iwán Ignatiitch, "do as you please; but what good should I do as witness? People fight; what is there extraordinary in that, allow me to ask? Thank heaven I have seen the Swedes and the Turks at close quarters, and I have seen a little of everything." I endeavoured to explain to him as best I could the duty of a second, but I found Iwán Ignatiitch quite unmanageable. "Do as you like," said he; "if I meddled in the matter, it would be to go and tell Iván Kouzmitch, according to the rules of the service, that a criminal deed is being plotted in the fort, in opposition to the interests of the crown, and remark to the Commandant how advisable it would be that he should think of taking the necessary measures." I was frightened, and I begged Iwán Ignatiitch not to say anything to the Commandant. With great difficulty I managed to quiet him, and at last made him promise to hold his tongue, when I left him in peace. As usual I passed the evening at the Commandant's. I tried to appear lively and unconcerned in order not to awaken any suspicions, and avoid any too curious questions. But I confess I had none of the coolness of which people boast who have found themselves in the same position. All that evening I felt inclined to be soft-hearted and sentimental. Marya Ivánofna pleased me more than usual. The thought that perhaps I was seeing her for the last time gave her, in my eyes, a touching grace. Chvabrine came in. I took him aside and told him about my interview with Iwán Ignatiitch. "Why any seconds?" he said to me, dryly. "We shall do very well without them." We decided to fight on the morrow behind the haystacks, at six o'clock in the morning. Seeing us talking in such a friendly manner, Iwán Ignatiitch, full of joy, nearly betrayed us. "You should have done that long ago," he said to me, with a face of satisfaction. "Better a hollow peace than an open quarrel." "What is that you say, Iwán Ignatiitch?" said the Commandant's wife, who was playing patience in a corner. "I did not exactly catch what you said."