29th June: A Spanish Dawn

"Thank you." The thought crossed his mind that he could compromise the powder somehow. Or spill it. But then they would only resort to swords. And in the end, that would probably be worse. At least, as things stood, if Jarreau survived the first duel, he had a roughly equal chance of surviving the second; the same could not be said of swords.

Carefully, deliberately he loaded the weapon and presented it to Jarreau. Alea iacta est, he thought bitterly, though even to his mind the comparison seemed trite, bordering on profane.

Saint-Hilaire waited, then loaded his,.. Bastien's pistol. He made certain that it had the right amount of gunpowder and would go off, then also of course that it was loaded and ready. Carrying it so that the ball would not fall out of the barrel he turned and walked to Prayon.

"Lieutenant, your pistol." He said calmly."....luck be with you." He whispered quietly. "We've a table prepared, and finest wine waiting for you...so you better not be late." He added and then handed him the gun.

Jarreau looked down at the pistol in his hands, then up at Leveque. "Thank you." He did not simply mean for the weapon.

Leveque nodded jerkily, his composure once more beginning to slip and they parted.

Bastien smiled lightly as he accepted the pistol.

"Well, I fear you will probably shout at me whatever I do ... but I would love to hear it later."

Saint-Hilaire sighed and glanced at Levaque for an indication that they were ready to commence with the duel for real. The paces would be counted and then it was only in the hands of the duelists and lady luck.

Leveque caught the sous-lieutenant's glance and nodded.