The preparations for a duel included obtaining some experience of these encounters by being present at several of them.  We freshmen attained this object by what is called ‘carrying duty,’ that is to say, we were entrusted with the rapiers of the corps (precious weapons of honour belonging to the association), and had to take them first to the grinder and thence to the scene of encounter, a proceeding which was attended with some danger, as it had to be done surreptitiously, since duelling was forbidden by law; in return we acquired the right of assisting as spectators at the impending engagements.

When I had earned this honour, the meeting-place chosen for the duel I was to watch was the billiard-room of an inn in the Burgstrasse; the table had been moved to one side, and on it the authorised spectators took their places.  Among them I stood up with a beating heart to watch the dangerous encounters between those doughty champions.  I was told on this occasion of the story of one of my friends (a Jew named Levy, but known as Lippert), who on this very floor had given so much ground before his antagonist that the door had to be opened for him, and he fell back through it down the steps into the street, still believing he was engaged in the duel.  When several bouts had been finished, two men came on to the ‘pitch,’ Tempel, the president of the Markomanen, and a certain Wohlfart, an old stager, already in his fourteenth half-year of study, with whom I also was booked for an encounter later on.  When this was the case, a man was not allowed to watch, in order that the weak points of the duellist might not be betrayed to his future opponent.  Wohlfart was accordingly asked by my chiefs whether he wanted me removed; whereupon he replied with calm contempt, ’Let them leave the little freshman there, in God’s name!’ Thus I became an eye-witness of the disablement of a swordsman who nevertheless showed himself so experienced and skilful on the occasion that I might well have become alarmed for the issue of my future encounter with him.  His gigantic opponent cut the artery of his right arm, which at once ended the fight; the surgeon declared that Wohlfart would not be able to hold a sword again for years, under which circumstances my proposed meeting with him was at once cancelled.  I do not deny that this incident cheered my soul.

Shortly afterwards the first general reunion of our club was held at the Green Tap.  These gatherings are regular hot-beds for the production of duels.  Here I brought upon myself a new encounter with one Tischer, but learned at the same time that I had been relieved of two of my most formidable previous engagements of the kind by the disappearance of my opponents, both of whom had escaped on account of debt and left no trace behind them.  The only one of whom I could hear anything was the terrible Stelzer, surnamed Lope.  This fellow had taken advantage of the passing of Polish refugees, who had at that time already been