“Then I will have all the blood in your veins,” roared Philip.
“No, I want it, to shed it on a more serious occasion. So take yourself off, or if you do not and make a noise, I shall call Fritz, who at a sign from me, will snap you in twain like a reed. Begone!”
As Philip tried to stop him ringing the bell, he opened an ebony box on a gilt console and took out a pair of pistols which he cocked.
“Well, I would rather this—kill me,” said the young man, “because you have dishonored me.”
He spoke the words with so much truth, that Balsamo said as he bent mild eyes upon him:
“Is it possible that you are acting in earnest? and that Mdlle. de Taverney alone conceived the idea and urged you forward? I am willing to admit that I owe you satisfaction. I swear on my honor that my conduct towards your sister on that memorable night was irreproachable. Do you believe me? You must read in my eyes that I do not fear a duel? Do not be deceived by my apparent weakness. It is a fact that I have scant blood in my face; but my muscles have lost none of their strength. See!”
With one hand and no apparent effort, he raised off its pedestal a massive bronze vase.
“Well, my lord, I grant that for the 31st of May; but you use a subterfuge: you have seen my sister since.”
Balsamo wavered but he said:
“True: I have seen her.” And his brow clouded with terrible memories.