been deeply injured, and I cannot suffer the injury to be unavenged.
Wagner is a fool. I shall keep my word. I am quite firm."

"Be it so, then," replied one of the officers; "and after all,
you know, a sword-cut need not be a very serious affair."

"Certainly not," rejoined Servadac; "and especially in my case,
when I have not the slightest intention of being wounded at all."

Incredulous as they naturally were as to the assigned cause of the quarrel,
Servadac's friends had no alternative but to accept his explanation,
and without farther parley they started for the staff office, where, at two
o'clock precisely, they were to meet the seconds of Count Timascheff.
Two hours later they had returned. All the preliminaries had been arranged;
the count, who like many Russians abroad was an aide-de-camp of the Czar,
had of course proposed swords as the most appropriate weapons, and the duel
was to take place on the following morning, the first of January, at nine
o'clock, upon the cliff at a spot about a mile and a half from the mouth
of the Shelif. With the assurance that they would not fail to keep their
appointment with military punctuality, the two officers cordially wrung
their friend's hand and retired to the Zulma Cafe for a game at piquet.
Captain Servadac at once retraced his steps and left the town.

For the last fortnight Servadac had not been occupying his proper lodgings
in the military quarters; having been appointed to make a local levy,
he had been living in a gourbi, or native hut, on the Mostaganem coast,
between four and five miles from the Shelif. His orderly was his
sole companion, and by any other man than the captain the enforced exile
would have been esteemed little short of a severe penance.