Georges cried: “Yes.”
The same voice commanded: “Fire!”
Duroy heard nothing more, saw nothing more; he only knew that he raised his arm and pressed with all his strength upon the trigger. Soon he saw a little smoke before him; his opponent was still standing in the same position, and there was a small white cloud above his head. They had both fired. All was over! His second and the doctor felt him, unbuttoned his garments, and asked anxiously: “Are you wounded?” He replied: “No, I think not.”
Langremont was not wounded either, and Jacques Rival muttered discontentedly: “That is always the way with those cursed pistols, one either misses or kills one’s opponent”
Duroy was paralyzed with surprise and joy. All was over! He felt that he could fight the entire universe. All was over! What bliss! He felt brave enough to provoke anyone. The seconds consulted several moments, then the duelists and their friends entered the carriages and drove off. When the official report was drawn up, it was handed to Duroy who was to insert it in the “Echoes.” He was surprised to find that two balls had been fired.
He said to Rival: “We only fired once!”
The latter smiled: “Yes — once — once each — that makes twice!”
And Duroy, satisfied with that explanation, asked no more questions. M. Walter embraced him.
“Bravo! you have defended the colors of ‘La Vie Francaise’! Bravo!”
The following day at eleven o’clock in the forenoon, Duroy received a telegram:
“My God! I have been frightened. Come at once to Rue de Constantinople that I may embrace you, my love. How brave you are. I adore you. Clo.”
He repaired to the place appointed, and Mme. de Marelle rushed into his arms, covering him with kisses.
“Oh, my darling, if you only knew how I felt when I read the morning papers! Tell me, tell me all about it.”
Duroy was obliged to give her a detailed account.
“You must have had a terrible night before the duel!”
“Why, no; I slept very well.”
“I should not have closed my eyes. Tell me what took place on the ground.”
Forthwith he proceeded to give her a graphic description of the duel. When he had concluded, she said to him: “I cannot live without you! I must see you, and with my husband in Paris it is not very convenient. I often have an hour early in the morning when I could come and embrace you, but I cannot enter that horrible house of yours! What can we do?”
He asked abruptly: “How much do you pay here?”
“One hundred francs a month.”
“Very well, I will take the apartments on my own account, and I will move at once. Mine are not suitable anyway for me now.”
She thought a moment and then replied: “No I do not want you to.”
He asked in surprise: “Why not?”
“Because!”
“That is no reason. These rooms suit me very well. I am here; I shall remain.” He laughed. “Moreover, they were hired in my name!”
But she persisted: “No, no, I do not wish you to.”
“Why not, then?”
She whispered softly, tenderly: “Because you would bring others here, and I do not wish you to.”
Indignantly he cried: “Never, I promise you!”
“You would do so in spite of your promise.”
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