Quick as I was, I was too late.

The lieutenant's sword lay on the grass, and he was clasping his shoulder with the sweat of agony on his brow.
"Damnation!" he groaned; "a woman!" Then he tottered and fell in the arms of his subordinate.

He had fainted.
"This will make a pretty story," cried the young officer, as he laid his superior lengthwise, and tried to staunch the flow of blood.
"Here's a man who runs away, and lets a woman--God knows what sort--fight his duels for him, the cur!" I never looked at him, but went straight to Gretchen.

Stahlberg gave me a questioning glance, and made a move as though to step between.
"Stand aside, man!" I snapped.

"Gretchen, you have dishonored me." "It were better than to bury you"-- lightly.