Arms and the Woman

"I shall be only too happy to meet you," I replied. "I prefer the

pistol, there is less exertion, and it is quicker."

"You shall have every advantage," said the Prince. "You will have that

to nerve your arm which I shall not have--a woman's love." With a bow

which was not without a certain dignity and grace, he walked from the

room.

Phyllis a Princess? Gretchen free? I sent for my coat and hat and

went out. I forgot all about my appointment with Col. J---- of the

Queen's light and that I had left Pembroke playing billiards in a

strange club, where I myself had been but a guest. The crisp October

air blew in my face as I rapidly walked up the mall, and it cooled the

fever in my veins. But my mind ran on rather wildly. Gretchen free?

Phyllis a Princess? Gretchen's little word, "perhaps," came back and

sang into my ears. Yet, win or lose, I was to meet the Prince in

mortal combat. If Phyllis was not proven Gretchen's twin sister, I

should care but little for the Prince's bullet. On the other

hand--Well, I should trust to luck. Before I was aware of my

destination, I stood fumbling the key in the door of my apartment. I

wanted my pipe. At eleven by the clock, Pembroke came in.

"Hang your apologies!" he said.