The conditions of the meeting had been that
if the first exchange of shots should fail to satisfy one of the two
gentlemen, a second should take place. Valentin's first bullet had done
exactly what Newman's companion was convinced he had intended it to do;
it had grazed the arm of M. Stanislas Kapp, just scratching the flesh.
M. Kapp's own projectile, meanwhile, had passed at ten good inches from
the person of Valentin. The representatives of M. Stanislas had demanded
another shot, which was granted. Valentin had then fired aside and the
young Alsatian had done effective execution. "I saw, when we met him
on the ground," said Newman's informant, "that he was not going to be
commode. It is a kind of bovine temperament." Valentin had immediately
been installed at the inn, and M. Stanislas and his friends had
withdrawn to regions unknown. The police authorities of the canton had
waited upon the party at the inn, had been extremely majestic, and had
drawn up a long proces-verbal; but it was probable that they would
wink at so very gentlemanly a bit of bloodshed. Newman asked whether a
message had not been sent to Valentin's family, and learned that up to
a late hour on the preceding evening Valentin had opposed it. He had
refused to believe his wound was dangerous. But after his interview with
the cure he had consented, and a telegram had been dispatched to his
mother.
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