no restraint at this time when an affront was given or his honor assailed.  Captain Elbert Bland, of Edgefield, and Major Emett Seibles, both of the Seventh Regiment, were engaged in a friendly game of chess, a difference arose, then a dispute, hot words, and at last insult given that could not be recalled nor allowed to pass unnoticed.  Challenge is offered and accepted, seconds appointed, pistols chosen; distance, twenty paces; time, sunrise next morning on a hillside near the outskirts of the camp.  Early next morning a lone ambulance is seen moving out of camp, followed by two surgeons, then the principals with their seconds at a respectful distance.  On reaching the spot chosen lots were cast for choice of stations.  This fell to Captain Bland.  The distance was measured with mechanical exactness, dueling pistols produced, each second loading that of his principal.  The regular dueling pistol is a costly affair and of the very finest material.  Long slim rifle barrel with hammer underneath, the stock finely chiseled and elaborately ornamented with silver or gold; the whole about ten inches in length and carrying a bullet of 22 calibre.  The seconds took their places at an equal distance from each other and midway between the principals.  Captain Bland takes his position at the west end of the field, and Major Seibles the east.  Both stood confronting each other, not fierce nor glaring like two men roused in passion, or that either wished the blood of the other, but bold, calm, and defiant; an insult to be wiped out and honor to be sustained.  They turned, facing the rear, hands down, with pistols in the right.  The seconds call out in calm, deliberate tones:  “Gentlemen, are you ready?” Then, “Ready, aim, fire!” “One, two, three, stop.”  The shooting must take place between the words “fire” and “stop,” or during the count of one, two, three.  If the principal fires before or after this command it is murder, and he is at once shot down by the second of his opponent.  Or if in any case the principals fail to respond at the hour set, the second promptly takes his place.  But no danger of such possibilities where two such men as Major Seibles and Captain Bland are interested.  There was a matter at issue dearer than country, wife or child.  It was honor, and a true South Carolinian of the old stock would make any sacrifice, give or take life, to uphold his name unsullied or the honor of his family untarnished.  As the word fire was given the opponents wheeled and two pistol shots rang out on the stillness of the morning.  Captain Bland stands still erect, commanding and motionless as a statue.  Major Seibles remains steady for a moment, then sways a little to the left, staggers and falls into the arms of his second and surgeon.  A hasty examination is made.  “Blood,” calls out the second of Major Seibles.  A nod of satisfaction is given and acknowledged by both seconds.  Captain Bland retires on the arm of his friend, while the Major, now bleeding profusely from a wound in the chest, is lifted in the ambulance and carried to his tent.  It was many months before Major Seibles was sufficiently recovered from his wound to return to duty.  The matter was kept quiet and no action taken.  Major Seibles died the following year, while the gallant Bland was killed at Chickamauga while leading as Colonel the Seventh Regiment in battle.