When we took our ground, Vincent came to me, and said, in a low tone, "For God's sake, suffer me to accommodate this, if possible ?" "It is not in our power," said I, receiving the pistol.

I looked steadily at D'Azimart, and took my aim.

His pistol, owing, I suppose, to the trembling of his hand, went off a moment sooner than he had anticipated--the ball grazed my hat.

My aim was more successful--I struck him in the shoulder--the exact place I had intended.

He staggered a few paces, but did not fall.
We hastened towards him--his cheek assumed a still more livid hue as I approached; he muttered some half-formed curses between his teeth, and turned from me to his second.
"You will inquire whether Monsieur D'Azimart is satisfied," said I to Vincent, and retired to a short distance.
"His second," said Vincent, (after a brief conference with that person,) "replies to my question, that Monsieur D'Azimart's wound has left him, for the present, no alternative." Upon this answer I took Vincent's arm, and we returned forthwith to my carriage.
"I congratulate you most sincerely on the event of this duel," said Vincent.