The duelists stopped at fifteen paces. Their seconds, standing under the oak tree, nervously observed.
“You should offer your last prayers, sir,” Sir Percy offered.
“You should be silent, sir, for your life is in my hands,” Sir Raymond retorted.
Both men held their pistols down by their sides. This was no ordinary duel. The rules had been tossed. There would be no call for “Fire.” Each man had one shot—and total freedom as to when to raise his gun.
Sir Percy moved first… but before his pistol was level his opponent, in a remarkable feat of speed, had jerked his almost at eye level and pulled the trigger.
Two “clicks” sounded almost simultaneously as hammers dropped … but there was no discharge.
The field of honor was now silent.
“Sir,” Sir Percy spoke first, “it appears the Lord is kind to you this morning.”
“I might say the same for you, sir, as well” Sir Raymond said.
The seconds moved forward, bringing capes to the two men.
“May we resume at another time?” Sir Percy inquired.
Both men smiled.
Fate.