Impelled by my earnest affection and I know not what vague anxiety was haunting me, I entered his room at about midnight; I found him very calm; he had been writing and was just sealing up a few envelopes.
"There!" he said, handing me the papers.

"Now the worst is over, and I am going to sleep the sleep of the just." I thought it best to offer him a few more technical suggestions on the handling of the weapon he was soon to use.

He listened to me without much attention, and suddenly extending his arm: "Feel my pulse," he said.
I did so, and ascertained that his calm and his cheerfulness were neither affected nor feverish.
"In such a condition," he added, "if a man is killed it is because he is willing to be.

Good-night, my dear sir!" Whereupon I left him.
Yesterday morning, at half-past eight, we repaired, Monsieur George, Monsieur de Breuilly, and myself, to an unfrequented path situated about half way between Mauterne and Malouet, and which had been selected for the dueling-ground.

Our adversary arrived almost immediately after, accompanied by Messieurs de Quiroy and Astley.