"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.