The details of the duel were arranged there and then, eight paces and two shots each.  The following morning they met at the place agreed upon, and, having marked off the ground, they took up their stations.  Bazaroff watched Pavel Petrovitch take careful aim....  “He’s aiming straight at my nerves,” he thought; “and doesn’t he blink down it carefully, the ruffian!  Not an agreeable sensation, though!  I’m going to look at his watch-chain.”

Something whizzed sharply by his ear, and at the same instant there was the sound of a shot.  Bazaroff, without taking aim, pressed the spring.  Pavel Petrovitch gave a slight start, and clutched at his thigh.  A stream of blood began to trickle down his white trousers.  Bazaroff became the doctor at once, and, flinging aside his pistol, fell on his knees beside his late antagonist, and began with professional skill to attend to his wound.  At that moment Nicolai Petrovitch drove up.

“What does this mean?” he asked, rushing to the side of his brother.

“It is nothing,” answered Pavel Petrovitch, faintly.  “I had a little dispute with Mr. Bazaroff, and I have had to pay for it a little.  I am the only person to blame in all this....  Mr. Bazaroff has behaved most honourably.”

After that incident Bazaroff’s stay in the house any longer was an impossibility.  He left the same day, calling at Madame Odintsov’s house on his way home to see Arkady.  He found his friend engaged to Katya and in the seventh heaven of delight.  Madame Odintsov would have had him stay.

“Why should you not stay now?” she said.  “Stay... it’s exciting talking to you... one seems walking on the edge of a precipice.  At first one feels timid, but one gains courage as one goes on.  Do stay.”

“Thanks for the suggestion,” he retorted, “and for your flattering opinion of my conversational talent.  But I think I have already been moving too long in a sphere which is not my own.  Flying fishes can hold out for a time in the air, but soon they must splash back into the water; allow me, too, to paddle in my own element.”

Madame Odintsov looked at Bazaroff.  His pale face was twitching with a bitter smile.  “This man did love me!” she thought, and she felt pity for him, and held out her hand to him with sympathy.

He, too, understood her.  “No!” he said, stepping back a pace.  “I am a poor man, but I have never taken charity so far.  Good-bye and good luck to you.”

“I am certain we are not seeing each other for the last time,” she declared, with an unconscious gesture.

“Anything may happen!” answered Bazaroff, and he bowed and went away.

IV.—­The Passing of Bazaroff

Bazaroff’s old parents were all the more overjoyed at their son’s arrival, as it was quite unexpected.  His mother was greatly excited and his father, touching his neck with his fingers, turned his head round as though he were trying whether it were properly screwed on, and then, all at once, he opened his wide mouth and went off into a perfectly noiseless chuckle.