The Torrents Of Spring

and all that’s left is that I am going to fight some one about something in
Frankfort.’ He recalled a crazy aunt of his who used to dance and sing:
‘O my lieutenant! My little cucumber! My little love! Dance with me,
my little dove!’
And he laughed and hummed as she used to: ‘O my lieutenant! Dance
with me, little dove!’ ‘But I must act, though, I mustn’t waste time,’ he
cried aloud – jumped up and saw Pantaleone facing him with a note in
his hand.
‘I knocked several times, but you did not answer; I thought you weren’t
at home,’ said the old man, as he gave him the note. ‘From Signorina
Gemma.’
Sanin took the note, mechanically, as they say, tore it open, and read it.
Gemma wrote to him that she was very anxious – about he knew what –
and would be very glad to see him at once.
‘The Signorina is anxious,’ began Pantaleone, who obviously knew
what was in the note, ‘she told me to see what you are doing and to
bring you to her.’
Sanin glanced at the old Italian, and pondered. A sudden idea flashed
upon his brain. For the first instant it struck him as too absurd to be
possible.
‘After all … why not?’ he asked himself.
‘M. Pantaleone!’ he said aloud.
The old man started, tucked his chin into his cravat and stared at
Sanin.
‘Do you know,’ pursued Sanin,’ what happened yesterday?’
Pantaleone chewed his lips and shook his immense top-knot of hair.
‘Yes.’
(Emil had told him all about it directly he got home.)
‘Oh, you know! Well, an officer has just this minute left me. That
scoundrel challenges me to a duel. I have accepted his challenge. But I
have no second. Will you be my second?’
Pantaleone started and raised his eyebrows so high that they were lost
under his overhanging hair.
‘You are absolutely obliged to fight?’ he said at last in Italian; till that
instant he had made use of French.
‘Absolutely. I can’t do otherwise – it would mean disgracing myself
for ever.’
‘H’m. If I don’t consent to be your second you will find some one else.’
‘Yes … undoubtedly.’
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