Angelo's head fell over against Luigi's in a faint, and
precious time was lost in bringing him to; which provoked Luigi into
expressing his mind to the doctor with a good deal of vigor and
frankness. After Angelo came to he was still so weak that Luigi was
obliged to drink a stiff horn of brandy to brace him up.
The seconds now stepped at once to their posts, halfway between the
combatants, one of them on each side of the line of fire. Wilson was to
count, very deliberately, "One-two-three-fire!--stop!" and the duelists
could bang away at any time they chose during that recitation, but not
after the last word. Angelo grew very nervous when he saw Wilson's hand
rising slowly into the air as a sign to make ready, and he leaned his
head against Luigi's and said:
"Oh, please take me away from here, I can't stay, I know I can't!"
"What in the world are you doing? Straighten up! What's the matter with
you?--you're in no danger--nobody's going to shoot at you. Straighten
up, I tell you!"
Angelo obeyed, just in time to hear:
"One--!"
"Bang!" Just one report, and a little tuft of white hair floated slowly
to the judge's feet in the moonlight.
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