Minute stories.

Aided by one of the captains, Martinez proceeded to strip her ornaments of glory, after placing it beside the other sword. It was like a demotion. They took his kepi, then the decorations, the red string around his shoulder, the strap across his chest countersunk, the belt the same color as oppressed his waist. The lieutenant seemed smaller and stunted in their loose and unadorned uniform. The Parisian, always cheerful, compared him to a plucked bird.

Colonel felt it necessary to repeat aloud the conditions of the duel. The prince knew them and was adept at these meetings. Martinez was the one who needed his instructions. After he, as director of combat, give the voice of “Fire!” Slow count “One, two, three.” They could aim and shoot in this space of time. Much attention, Lieutenant! Don Marcos spoke to a tragic gravity.

-If you make a fire before or after the three, will be declared felon.

This being found scared the young felon. I was not sure what it was, but he impressed the colonel’s gesture in pronouncing the word terrible. You did not think so vehemently to kill his enemy, this desire became second term. Neither thought he might die. His only concern was to calculate the time, obeying the order, not entertaining to point, before the terrible fire to three, so it does not give him that title horrifying and mysterious.

Don Marcos entered the castle and reappeared with two loaded guns. He gave one to the prince. This did not need lessons. He put one on the right hand of the lieutenant and told him how to be retained, the bent arm, the gun raised, the whole body well in profile. Still insisted on his instructions. Beware of wrong! I knew, one … two … three.

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