My father was an old-time Puritan to whom personal combat was abomination, and even now I could feel his condemnation of my course.

I regretted myself the hot headedness which had led me on, but without the faintest inclination to withdraw.

Yet that earlier hatred of Le Gaire had left me, and his blow no longer stung.

No desire for revenge lingered, only a wish to have the whole matter concluded quickly, and a hope that we both might leave the field without serious injury.

It was in this frame of mind that I turned the corner of the stable, and saw the chosen duelling ground.