"For what?" asked Volhonski, haughtily. "For what!--der Teufel!--do you ask for what?" "Ja, Herr Captain." "For permitting those cigar ashes to go over all my person." "In the first place, your precious person had no right to be there; in the second, appeal to the wind, and fight with it." "I shall not fight with _it!_" thundered the German; "and I demand an instant apology." "Absurd!" replied Volhonski, coolly; "I have no apology to make, fellow. Apologise to another I might; but certainly not to such as you." "You dare to jest--to--to--to trifle with me?" spluttered the German, gasping and swelling with rage. "I never jest or trifle with strangers; do you wish to quarrel?" "No, Herr Graf," sneered the German; "do you?" "Then how am I to construe your conduct and words?" "As you please. But know this, Herr Graf: that though I ever avoid quarrelling, I instantly crush or repel the slightest appearance of insult, and you have _insulted_ me." "Ja, ja!" muttered the German officers, in blue surtouts and brass shoulder-scales, who now crowded about us. Volhonski smiled disdainfully, and drew from his pocket a richly-inlaid card-case; then taking from it an enamelled card, with a bow that was marked and formal, yet haughty, he presented it to Captain Ludwig Schwartz, who deliberately tore it in two, and said, in a low fierce voice, "Bah! I challenge you, Schelm, to meet me with pistols, or hand to hand without masks, and without seconds, if you choose." "Agreed," replied Volhonski, now pale with passion, knowing well that after such a defiance as that, and before such company, it would be a duel without cessation, a combat _à la mort_. "Where?" he asked, briefly. "The Heiligengeist Feld." "When?" "To-morrow at daybreak" "Agreed; till then adieu, Herr Captain;" and touching their caps to each other in salute, they separated.