"But if you say that my cousin Gustav was murdered, that you know this to be so, that fighting is your business, and that you are the guardian of the family's honor, why have you not called the murderer to account?"
"I tell you you don't understand these things. We don't manage matters like a parcel of swaggering student duels."
"Apparently not," I answered in a studiously quiet tone. "Students would say in such a case that you did not fight because—you dared not."
"You speak with a strange license, and if you are not careful you will get yourself into trouble!" he cried furiously, trying to frighten me with a bullying stare. "You won't find every one ready to make such allowances for your gaucherie as I am. You will have the goodness to withdraw that suggestion."
"I will do so with pleasure the moment I know you have challenged the man you call a murderer, or have repeated in his presence what you have said about him to me."
His surprise at this unexpected tone of quiet insistence on my part was almost laughable; but he tried to carry it off and bear me down with his boisterous, bullying manner.
"You had better take heed how you presume on my forbearance toward one in your position, or even the fact that you are nominally a member of the family will not prevent me from giving you a pretty severe lesson."
"You mean, I suppose, that, although you dared not challenge the man who killed Gustav, you think you might tackle me with impunity. That is not a very high standard of courage," and I shrugged my shoulders, and curled my lips in contempt, as I added, "If that is all the protection the Gramberg honor can rely upon, God save the family reputation."
The sneer drove him mad, and the blood rushed to his face, until every one of his coarse features glowed with his passion.
"With the Prince lying dead in the castle, this is not the time for such a matter to be settled; but I will not suffer such an insult even from you to pass unpunished. Why should you seek to force a quarrel on me at such a time?"