The interest which Major Hardy was exhibiting, as well as the promptness with which he had espoused my side of the quarrel, made me suspicious that he was not altogether sorry to be thus easily rid of Le Gaire.  I could not venture questioning him on so delicate a matter, but without doubt he also saw the Louisianian in a new light, and began to comprehend the change in his daughter.  Moreover the humor in the situation appealed to him, and, having once volunteered to serve me, he became thoroughly loyal to that purpose.  His very presence gave me courage, and his words stiffened me for the coming ordeal.  This was my first occasion of the kind and, as the earlier anger wore off, I found myself looking forward with some dread to the encounter.  It was not fear, but the newness of the experience jarred my nerves.  I paced back and forth across the room, only partially aware of what he was saying, endeavoring to straighten matters out in my own mind.  Was I doing right?  Was I justified in this course of action?  I had followed the impulse of passion, the sting of Le Gaire’s blow driving all other memory from me.  But now I realized the peril in which my action might involve others, the men under my command, for instance, and wondered what Billie would think and say when the news of the quarrel reached her.  She would understand the real cause, yet, with her father upon my side, I was not likely to suffer greatly.  Anyway the die was cast; it was too late now to regret.  Bell returned full of apology and explanation, expressing a desire that the weapons be changed to pistols.  Hardy arose from his chair, his eyes twinkling behind heavy lashes.

“Sure; Galesworth is easily satisfied.  I have two derringers up stairs exactly alike; my father was out with them twice!  Quite a fad duelling was in his day, but the guns haven’t been used for years.  Come handy now.  By the way, Lieutenant, you shoot equally well with either hand, I believe?  Very valuable accomplishment; never could myself.  We will meet you, Captain Bell, back of the stable in fifteen minutes.  Sorry we have no surgeon present.  That is all, is it not?” as the infantryman still lingered.  “The minor details can be arranged on the field.”

CHAPTER XXV

THE END OF THE DUEL

The sun was slightly above the horizon, still showing round and red through the slight mist of early morning, as the major and I passed down the deserted front steps, and circled the house on our way to the place of meeting.  Under his arm was the leather case containing the derringers, and we crossed the intervening turf without exchanging a word.  I was myself in no mood for conversation, and Hardy appeared equally inclined to silence.  I glanced across at him, noting how straight he stood in his well-worn uniform, how gray his hair was, and the stern manliness of his face.  From head to foot he was the gentleman and the soldier.  By some chance our eyes met, and, with a quick glance back at the house, he stopped suddenly.