"I!" cried D'Harmental, bounding before the door, a pistol in each hand.
"You?" said Roquefinette, making a step toward the chevalier, and then crossing his arms and regarding him fixedly.
"One step more, captain," said the chevalier, "and I give you my word I will blow your brains out."
"You blow my brains out—you! In the first place, it is necessary for that, that you should not tremble like an old woman. Do you know what you will do? You will miss me; the noise will alarm the neighbors, who will call the guard, and they will question me as to the reasons of your shooting at me, and I shall be obliged to tell them."
"Yes, you are right, captain," cried the chevalier, uncocking his pistols, and replacing them in his belt, "and I shall be obliged to kill you more honorably than you deserve. Draw, monsieur, draw."
And D'Harmental, leaning his left foot against the door, drew his sword, and placed himself on guard. It was a court sword, a thin ribbon of steel, set in a gold handle. Roquefinette began to laugh.
"With what shall I defend myself, chevalier? Do you happen to have one of your mistress's knitting needles here?"
"Defend yourself with your own sword, monsieur; long as it is, you see that I am placed so that I cannot make a step to avoid it."
"What do you think of that, my dear?" said the captain, addressing his blade.
"It thinks that you are a coward, captain," cried D'Harmental, "since it is necessary to strike you in the face to make you fight." And with a movement as quick as lightning, D'Harmental cut the captain across the face with his rapier, leaving on the cheek a long blue mark like the mark of a whip.