“Well,” he asked, “is everything arranged?”
“Yes,” said the Englishman, “it was an easy matter. You are dealing with a true gentleman.”
“So much the better!” exclaimed Roland, waiting.
“You will fight two hours hence by the fountain of Vaucluse—a charming spot—with pistols, advancing to each other, each to fire as he pleases and continuing to advance after his adversary’s fire.”
“By my faith! you are right, Sir John. That is, indeed, excellent. Did you arrange that?”
“I and M. de Barjols’ second, your adversary having renounced his rights of the insulted party.”
“Have you decided upon the weapons?”
“I offered my pistols. They were accepted on my word of honor that you were as unfamiliar with them as was M. de Barjols. They are excellent weapons. I can cut a bullet on a knife blade at twenty paces.”
“Peste! You are a good shot, it would seem, my lord.”
“Yes, I am said to be the best shot in England.”