“No trouble, I assure you, duke; quite a pleasure,” serenely answered the colonel.

“My friend, I have left half a dozen letters locked up in my writing-desk.  I shall hand the key of that desk to you as we go out.  If I should fall, I hope you will take charge of the desk and see to the delivery of the letters at their proper addresses,” said the duke, more gravely than he had spoken before.

“Certainly, with much pleasure.  Have you also made your will?” cheerfully inquired the colonel.

“No,” shortly replied the duke.

“Then permit me to say that I think you should do so, by all means.”

“There is no need.  My estates are all entailed.  My personal property is not worth winning.  The—­duchess is provided by her own dower, which came out of her own property, I am thankful to say.  No, there is no need of a will.”

“Then allow me to suggest that we ought to go to bed.  It is now two o’clock.  We must be up at five.  We have just three hours to sleep, and—­if you have no other commissions for me—­I will retire,” said the colonel, smoothly.

“Many thanks.  I believe there is nothing more to be said or done to-night,” responded the duke, in a desponding tone—­for it cannot be an exhilarating anticipation to have to get up in the morning and stand up to murder, or be murdered, even where the duellist is the bravest of men, backed by the serenest of seconds.

“Then, since there is no further use for me this evening, I will say good-night and pleasant dreams,” said the colonel, suavely, as he slid from the room.

Good-night and pleasant dreams to a duellist on the eve of a duel!  Was it a sarcasm on the colonel’s part?  By no means; it was only the manifestation of his habitual smooth politeness.

The duke, left to himself, walked up and down the floor for a few minutes, and then rang for his valet to attend him, and retired to bed, leaving orders to be called at five o’clock in the morning.

Though left in quietness, he could not compose himself to sleep, but tossed and tumbled from side to side, spending the most wakeful and the most miserable night he had ever known in the whole course of his life.  The time seemed stretched out upon a rack of torture, until the four hours extended to forty; for from the moment he had lain down he had not slept an instant, until he was startled by a rap at his bedroom door, and the voice of his valet calling: 

“If you please, your grace, the clock has struck five; the coffee is ready, and the cab is at the door.”

“Then come in and dress me quickly,” answered the duke, rising, as the prompt servant entered and handed a dressing-gown.

The toilet of the duke was quickly made.

When he passed into the next room, he found the breakfast table laid and the colonel waiting for him.

“Good-morning, Duke.  I hope you slept well.  The day promises to be delightful.  We have no time to lose, however, if we are to be on the ground at sunrise.  Shall we have our coffee?” serenely inquired the second.