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“I don’t think you ought to contemplate marriage, Halibut,” remarked the Major, very seriously and gently.

“Thanks,” said Halibut, dryly.

“Very well,” said the Major, “I agree to the conditions. Better come to my place and we’ll decide it now. If we look sharp, the winner may be able to know his fate to-day, after all.”

Halibut assenting, they walked back together. The feverish joy of the gambler showed in the Major’s eye as they drew their chairs up to the little antique chess table and began to place their pieces ready for the fray. Then a thought struck him, and he crossed over to the sideboard.

“If you’re feeling a bit off colour, Halibut,” he said, kindly, “you’d better have a little brandy to pull yourself together. I don’t wish to take a mean advantage.”

“You’re very good,” said the other, as he eyed the noble measure of liquid poured out by his generous adversary.

“And now to business,” said the Major, as he drew himself a little soda from a siphon.

“Now to business,” repeated Halibut, rising and placing his glass on the mantel-piece.

The Major struggled fiercely with his feelings, but, despite himself, a guilty blush lent colour to the other’s unfounded suspicions.

“Remember the conditions,” said Halibut, impressively.

“Here’s my hand on it,” said the other, reaching over.

Halibut took it, and, his thoughts being at the moment far away, gave it a tender, respectful squeeze. The Major stared and coughed. It was suggestive of practice.

If the history of the duel is ever written, it will be found not unworthy of being reckoned with the most famous combats of ancient times. Piece after piece was removed from the board, and the Major drank glass after glass of soda to cool his heated brain. At the second glass Halibut took an empty tumbler and helped himself. Suddenly there was a singing in the Major’s ears, and a voice, a hateful, triumphant voice, said,

“Checkmate!”

Then did his gaze wander from knight to bishop and bishop to castle in a vain search for succour. There was his king defied by a bishop–a bishop which had been hobnobbing with pawns in one corner of the board, and which he could have sworn he had captured and removed full twenty minutes before. He mentioned this impression to Halibut.

“That was the other one,” said his foe. “I thought you had forgotten this. I have been watching and hoping so for the last half-hour.”

There was no disguising the coarse satisfaction of the man. He had watched and hoped. Not beaten him, so the Major told himself, in fair play, but by taking a mean and pitiful advantage of a pure oversight. A sheer oversight. He admitted it.

Halibut rose with a sigh of relief, and the Major, mechanically sweeping up the pieces, dropped them one by one into the box.

“Plenty of time,” said the victor, glancing at the clock. “I shall go now, but I should like a wash first.”

The Major rose, and in his capacity of host led the way upstairs to his room, and poured fresh water for his foe. Halibut washed himself delicately, carefully trimming his hair and beard, and anxiously consulting the Major as to the set of his coat in the back, after he had donned it again.

His toilet completed, he gave a satisfied glance in the glass, and then followed the man of war sedately down stairs. At the hall he paused, and busied himself with the clothes-brush and hat-pad, modestly informing his glaring friend that he could not afford to throw any chances away, and then took his departure.

The Major sat up late that night waiting for news, but none came, and by breakfast-time next morning his thirst for information became almost uncontrollable. He toyed with a chop and allowed his coffee to get cold. Then he clapped on his hat and set off to Halibut’s to know the worst.

“Well?” he inquired, as he followed the other into his dining-room.