I laughed to myself when he had gone, for I saw that I had imposed on him. He thought I was half beside myself with fear. Evidently I had an evil-smelling reputation. But I would soon change all that, I thought, as I set to work to examine all the papers and possessions in the rooms. I was engaged in this work when my other second arrived. He was named Ugo Gradinsk, and was a very different kind of man, and had been a much more intimate friend. He had heard of my accident and had come for news.

A glance at him filled me with instinctive disgust.

"What's up, Alexis?" was his greeting. "That prig Essaieff, has just told me you're in a devil of a funny mood, and thinks you're about out of your mind with fear. What the devil have you done to yourself?" He touched his chin as he spoke.

"Can't I be shaved without setting you all cackling with curiosity? I had half my hair burnt off and shaved the other half." He started at my surly tone and I saw in his eyes a reflection of the other man's thoughts.

"D'ye think you'll be a smaller mark for Devinsky's sword? It's made a devil of a difference in your looks, I must say. And in your manners too." I heard him mutter this last sentence into his moustache.

"Do you think I mean for an instant to allow that bully's sword to touch me?" I asked scowling angrily.

"Well, you thought so last night when I was giving you that wrinkle with the foils—and that was certainly why you got this infernal duel put off for a day."

"Ah, well, I've been fooling you, that's all," said I, shortly. "I've played the fool long enough too, and I mean business. I've taken out a patent." I laughed grimly.

"What the devil d'ye mean? What patent?"

"A new sword stroke. The sabre stroke, I call it. Every first-rank swordsman has one," I cried boastfully.

"First-rank swordsman be hanged. Why, you can't hold a candle to me. And I would not stand before Devinsky's weapon for the promise of a colonelcy. Don't be an ass."

"My cut's with the flat of the sword across the face directly I've disarmed my man."

"And a devilish effective cut too no doubt—when you have disarmed him. But you'd better be making your will and putting your things in order, instead of talking this sort of swaggering rubbish to keep your courage up. You know jolly well that Devinsky means mischief; and what always happens when he does. I don't want to frighten you, but hang it all, you know what he is."

"I'm going to pass the night in prayer," said I: and my visitor laughed boisterously at this.

"If you confess all we've done together, old man, you'll want a full night," he said.

"The prayers are for him, not for me," and at that he laughed more boisterously than before: and he began to talk of a hundred dissipated experiences we had had together. I let him talk freely as it was part of my education, and he rattled on about such a number of shameful things that I was disgusted alike with him and with the beast I was supposed to be. At length to my relief he stopped and asked me to go across to the club for the last night.

I resolved to go, thinking that if I were in his company it would seem appropriate, and I wished to paint in more of the garish colours of my new character among my fellow-officers. I made myself very offensive the moment I was inside the place. I swaggered about the rooms with an assumption of insufferable insolence. Whenever I found a man looking askance at me—and this was frequent enough—I picked him out for some special insult. I spoke freely of the "miracle" that had happened to me, and the change that had been effected. I repeated my coarse silly jest about praying all night for my antagonist: and I so behaved that before I had been in the place an hour, I had laid the foundations of enough quarrels to last me a month if I wished to have a meeting every morning.

"Ah, he knows well enough he's going to die to-morrow morning," said one man in my hearing. "It's no good challenging a man under sentence of death," said another; while a number of others held to Essaieff's view—that I was beside myself with fear, or drink, or both combined. I placed myself at the disposal of every man who had a word to say; but the main answer I received was an expression of thanks that after that night I should trouble them no more.

I left the place, hugely pleased with the result of the night's work. I had created at a stroke a new part for Alexis Petrovitch: and prepared everyone to expect and think nothing of any fresh eccentricities or further change they might observe in me in the future.

I reached my rooms in high spirits, and sat down to overhaul the place for papers, and to learn something more of myself than I at present knew.

CHAPTER IV.

THE DUEL.

The discoveries I made were more varied and interesting than agreeable: and I found plenty of evidence to more than justify my first ill impressions of Olga's real brother.

It was time indeed that there should be a change.

The man must have gone off without even waiting to sort his papers.

Rummaging in some locked drawers, the keys of which I found in a little cabinet that I broke open, I came across a diary with a number of entries with long gaps between them, which seemed to throw a good deal of light on my past.

There were indications of three separate intrigues which I was apparently carrying on at that very time; the initials of the women being "P.T.," "A.P.," and "B.G." The last-named, I may say at once, I never heard of or discovered: though in some correspondence I read afterwards, I came across some undated letters signed with the initials, making and accepting and declining certain appointments. But both "P.T." and "A.P." were the cause of trouble afterwards.

I found that a number of appointments of all kinds were fixed for the following afternoon. The initials of the persons only were given, but enough particulars were added to shew the nature of the business. Thus someone was coming for a bet of 1,000 roubles; a money lender was due who had seemingly declared that he would wait no longer; and quite a number of tradesmen for their bills.

I soon saw the reason for all this. I was evidently a fellow with a turn for a certain kind of humour; and I had obviously made the appointments in the full assurance either that Devinsky's sword would have squared all earthly accounts in full for me, or that I should be safe across the frontier and out of my creditors' way.

I recalled with a chuckle my words to Olga—that if I were to play the part I must play it thoroughly. This meant that not only must I fight the beggar's duel for him, but if I were not killed, fence with his creditors also or pay their claims.

I swept everything at length into one of the biggest and strongest drawers, locked them up, and sat down to think for a few minutes before going to bed.

If I fell in the morning I wished Rupert Balestier to hear of it; and the only means by which that could be done would be for me to write a note and get Olga to post it. Half a dozen words would be enough:

"MY DEAR RUPERT,

"The end has come much sooner than I hoped when writing you this afternoon. A queer adventure has landed me in a duel for to-morrow morning with a man who is known as a good swordsman. He may prove too much for me. If so, good-bye old friend, and so much the better. It will save an awful lot of trouble; and the world and I are quite ready to be quit of one another. The receipt of this letter posted by a friendly hand will be a sign to you that I have fallen. Again, good-bye, old fellow. H.T."

I did not put my name in full, to lessen the chance of complication should the letter go astray. I addressed it, and then put it under a separate cover. Next I wrote a short note to my sister; and this had to be ambiguously worded, lest it also should get