rapidly up to him and shook it. Both the young men looked at each
other with a smile, and both their faces flushed crimson.

'_Bravi! bravi!_' Pantaleone roared suddenly as if he had gone mad,
and clapping his hands, he rushed like a whirlwind from behind the
bush; while the doctor, who had been sitting on one side on a felled
tree, promptly rose, poured the water out of the jug and walked off
with a lazy, rolling step out of the wood.

'Honour is satisfied, and the duel is over!' von Richter announced.

'_Fuori!_' Pantaleone boomed once more, through old associations.

* * * * *

When he had exchanged bows with the officers, and taken his seat in
the carriage, Sanin certainly felt all over him, if not a sense of
pleasure, at least a certain lightness of heart, as after an operation
is over; but there was another feeling astir within him too, a feeling
akin to shame.... The duel, in which he had just played his part,
struck him as something false, a got-up formality, a common officers'
and students' farce. He recalled the phlegmatic doctor, he recalled
how he had grinned, that is, wrinkled up his nose when he saw him
coming out of the wood almost arm-in-arm with Baron Doenhof. And
afterwards when Pantaleone had paid him the four crowns due to him ...
Ah! there was something nasty about it!

Yes, Sanin was a little conscience-smitten and ashamed ... though, on
the other hand, what was there for him to have done? Could he have
left the young officer's insolence unrebuked? could he have behaved