In spite of himself he fell into a reverie, and his reflections were tinged with a melancholy which he could not shake off.
What course could he adopt?
He deemed it expedient to sally forth in the morning and consult the chevalier whom he proposed to appoint his second.
He was a brave, gallant old gentleman, and as courteous as he was brave.
No one was better qualified to act in such a capacity, and he felt perfectly well assured that he could count upon his services on such an occasion.
The more he pondered the more convinced he was that there was now no possibility of retreating from the position in which he had been placed by the force of circumstances, conjointly, it must be admitted, with his own rashness and imprudence.
He felt that the position was a false one, and the fatal words, “it is too late,” fell from his lips again and again, and he could only resolve to drain the bitter cup which he had madly filled for himself.
He sat for an hour or two ruminating on the aspect of affairs, but the more he reflected the more distressed did he feel, until at length, worn out with bitter thoughts, he threw himself on his couch and sank into a fitful slumber.
On the following morning, immediately after his morning meal, he sallied forth and hastened at once to the house of the gentleman where the chevalier had taken up his quarters.
The man servant who admitted him said that the chevalier had not risen, but he would inform him of the earl’s presence, and in the course of a few minutes after this he was shown into an elegantly furnished bijou apartment, in which his friend was seated, sipping a cup of fragrant mocha. He professed to be overjoyed at seeing the earl, to whom he apologised for having kept waiting.