swords, the Count rushed out armed and interrupted the negotiations.
"Pan Soplica," he shouted. "begging your pardon, you challenged the Major! I have a grudge of longer standing against the Captain; he has broken into my castle"—"Please say our castle," interrupted Protazy—"at the head of a band of robbers," the Count concluded. "He—I recognised Rykov—tied up my jockeys; I will punish him as I punished the brigands beneath the crag that the Sicilians call Birbante-Rocca."
All became silent, and the firing ceased; the armies gazed eagerly at the meeting of their leaders. The Count and Rykov advanced, standing sidewise, threatening each other with the right hand and the right eye; then with their left hands they uncovered their heads and bowed courteously—it is the custom of men of honour, before proceeding to murder, first to exchange greetings. Their swords were already crossed and had begun to clash. The knights, each lifting one foot, bent their right knees, and jumped forward and back by turns.
But Plut, seeing Thaddeus in front of his line, had a quiet consultation with Corporal Gont, who passed for the best shot in the company.
"Gont," said the Major, "you see that rascal there; if you will put a bullet into him right under the fifth rib I'll give you four silver rubles."
Gont cocked his carbine and bent over the lock; his faithful comrades sheltered him with their cloaks. He aimed, not at the rib, but at the head of Thaddeus; he shot and hit the centre of his hat, close to his mark. Thaddeus whirled about, then Sprinkler rushed on Rykov, and after him the gentry, crying "Treason!"
