Hagen! I hadn't seen him come. I'd almost forgotten him, in fact. We both bowed. "I've brought with me," he explained, "everything required for a meeting without seconds." He produced a fountain-pen and some paper. "Revolvers being the weapon selected," he said, "I've brought mine. We can draw lots if you like, but I think it's hardly necessary. The model is the same. Now will you be good enough to sign this?" He had taken the precaution of drawing up a statement, in my name and his, wherein the two adversaries testified in advance that everything had been quite fair and regular. "In case there's an accident, this will save the survivor a good deal of trouble," he thought fit to explain. Officialism could hardly go further. All the same I was curious to know how the signal was to be given. I couldn't help asking him. He smiled, a smile full of self-satisfaction. "I've seen to that all right," he replied. With these words he opened a parcel containing an alarm-clock. "I've set the alarm for ten minutes past six," he said. "You can test it, if you like. When it goes off we will fire, changing places if we like. It's all put down in the statement." I couldn't say whether tragedy or absurdity was the more conspicuous feature of the proceedings. Hagen paced out the distance. "Eight, nine, ten. Herr Professor, you're a little taller than I. Will you pace it out too, and if you like, we'll take the mean." "It doesn't matter," I said. "This is all right for me." He bowed and drew his revolver from his pocket. "Seven minutes past," he said. "We'd better take our places." I toed the line he had drawn at the start. We were now face to face. The clock was placed on the parapet of the bridge, where we could both see its face. Its sharp ticking sounded above the distant roar of the river. I looked at my opponent. His eyes, bashfully cast down like those of a girl, were fixed on my feet. Nine minutes past six. _He_ is listening for the sound, while I am looking at the hand, I thought. Suppose the alarm went off too soon! Suddenly I saw Hagen raise his head. His elegant self-possession had left him, and a look of unutterable terror was stamped on his features. I turned round, regardless of the fact that this movement might have cost me my life. At that very moment the alarm went off, a loud buzz that went on and on. The Grand Duchess Aurora was behind me. Then I understood why the officer hadn't fired. Aurora was now standing between us. "Will one of you gentlemen kindly explain the meaning of this curious scene?" she said coldly. There was no answer. The document drawn up by Hagen was under the clock. She picked it up. "I understand," she said, when she had read it. "Revolvers! Monsieur Vignerte, you make very bad use of things you're trusted with. Lieutenant von Hagen, my compliments to you. Your ingenuity is amazing." Her voice was ironical, but now became very hard: