patience, took the brush and rubbed out what he considered was wrong.
Silvio took the chalk and corrected the score again. The officer, heated
with wine, play, and the laughter of his comrades, considered himself
grossly insulted, and in his rage he seized a brass candlestick from the
table, and hurled it at Silvio, who barely succeeded in avoiding the
missile. We were filled with consternation. Silvio rose, white with
rage, and with gleaming eyes, said:

"My dear sir, have the goodness to withdraw, and thank God that this has
happened in my house."

None of us entertained the slightest doubt as to what the result would
be, and we already looked upon our new comrade as a dead man. The
officer withdrew, saying that he was ready to answer for his offence in
whatever way the banker liked. The play went on for a few minutes
longer, but feeling that our host was no longer interested in the game,
we withdrew one after the other, and repaired to our respective
quarters, after having exchanged a few words upon the probability of
there soon being a vacancy in the regiment.

The next day, at the riding-school, we were already asking each other if
the poor lieutenant was still alive, when he himself appeared among us.
We put the same question to him, and he replied that he had not yet
heard from Silvio. This astonished us. We went to Silvio's house and
found him in the courtyard shooting bullet after bullet into an ace
pasted upon the gate. He received us as usual, but did not utter a word
about the event of the previous evening. Three days passed, and the
lieutenant was still alive. We asked each other in astonishment: "Can it
be possible that Silvio is not going to fight?"