Then Rival gave him a series of circumstantial recommendations, for he
was anxious that his principal should not make any mistake. He
emphasized each point several times, saying: "When they say, 'Are you
ready, gentlemen?' you must answer 'Yes' in a loud tone. When they give
the word 'Fire!' you must raise your arm quickly, and you must fire
before they have finished counting 'One, two, three.'"
And Duroy kept on repeating to himself: "When they give the word to
fire, I must raise my arm. When they give the word to fire, I must raise
my arm." He learnt it as children learn their lessons, by murmuring them
to satiety in order to fix them on their minds. "When they give the word
to fire, I must raise my arm."
The carriage entered a wood, turned down an avenue on the right, and
then to the right again. Rival suddenly opened the door to cry to the
driver: "That way, down the narrow road." The carriage turned into a
rutty road between two copses, in which dead leaves fringed with ice
were quivering. Duroy was still murmuring: "When they give the word to
fire, I must raise my arm." And he thought how a carriage accident would
settle the whole affair. "Oh! if they could only upset, what luck; if he
could only break a leg."
But he caught sight, at the further side of a clearing, of another
carriage drawn up, and four gentlemen stamping to keep their feet warm,
and he was obliged to open his mouth, so difficult did his breathing
become.
The seconds got out first, and then the doctor and the principal. Rival
had taken the pistol-case and walked away with Boisrenard to meet two of
the strangers who came towards them. Duroy watched them salute one
another ceremoniously, and then walk up and down the clearing, looking
now on the ground and now at the trees, as though they were looking for
something that had fallen down or might fly away. Then they measured off
a certain number of paces, and with great difficulty stuck two walking
sticks into the frozen ground. They then reassembled in a group and went
through the action of tossing, like children playing heads or tails.
Doctor Le Brument said to Duroy: "Do you feel all right? Do you want
anything?"
"No, nothing, thanks."
It seemed to him that he was mad, that he was asleep, that he was
dreaming, that supernatural influences enveloped him. Was he afraid?
Perhaps. But he did not know. Everything about him had altered.
Jacques Rival returned, and announced in low tones of satisfaction: "It
is all ready. Luck has favored us as regards the pistols."
That, so far as Duroy was concerned, was a matter of profound
indifference.
They took off his overcoat, which he let them do mechanically. They felt
the breast-pocket of his frock-coat to make certain that he had no
pocketbook or papers likely to deaden a ball. He kept repeating to
himself like a prayer: "When the word is given to fire, I must raise my
arm."
They led him up to one of the sticks stuck in the ground and handed him
his pistol. Then he saw a man standing just in front of him--a short,
stout, bald-headed man, wearing spectacles. It was his adversary. He saw
him very plainly, but he could only think: "When the word to fire is
given, I must raise my arm and fire at once."
A voice rang out in the deep silence, a voice that seemed to come from a
great distance, saying: "Are you ready, gentlemen?"