By Right of Sword

by Arthur W. Marchmont

I heard Devinsky swear softly into his moustache at this; but there was nothing for them to take hold of, though every man in the room understood what I meant; and nearly all were now listening.

"Yes, I have heard you have singular manners in the provinces. My friend here, Devinsky, has told me several curious things. I heard of one provincial for instance, who allowed himself to be insulted and browbeaten till his cowardice was almost a by-word, and it became really impossible for him to remain in the army unless he accepted the challenge he had so often refused. And then he begged, almost with tears, to get terms made; and when this was not done, he deadened his fears with drink and came to the club here like a witless fool, behaving like a drunken clown; and then at last actually went out and fought in a condition of seeming delirium. We do not have that in the capital. In St Petersburg we should have such a scabby rascal whipped on a gun."

A movement among the group of toadies shewed me how this burlesque of my conduct was appreciated there, while Devinsky was grinning boastfully.

"Did Major Devinsky tell you that?" I asked; my voice down at least two tones in my excitement, while my pulses thrilled at the insult. But outwardly I was calm.

"Yes, I think that's a pretty fair description, isn't it, Devinsky?" replied Durescq, turning coolly to the latter for confirmation. Then he turned again to me and asked:—"Why, do you recognise the description, Lieutenant Petrovitch?"

"You have not heard the whole of the story," I answered, getting the words out with difficulty between teeth I had to clench hard to keep my passion under control. "The man who was beaten in the duel left Moscow in a panic and went to St Petersburg for a purpose—that you may perhaps approve." There was now dead silence in all the room and the eyes of every man in it were rivetted on me. "The first object of the duel was that he might kill in it the man whose skill was thought to be inferior to his own, so that he might persecute with his disgusting attentions the sister of him on whom he had fixed the quarrel. Failing, he went to fetch a cleverer sword than his own to do his dirty work; and he fetched——" I paused and then my rage burst out like a volcano—"He fetched a butcher named Durescq to do butcher's work; and I, by God! won't baulk him."

With this I lost all control, and springing upon him I seized his nose and wrung it and twisted it, dragging his head from side to side in my ungovernable fury, until I nearly broke my teeth with the straining force with which I clenched them. Then raising my hand I slapped his face with a force and loudness that resounded right through the room and made every man start and wonder what would come next.

"That is from the man you say dare not fight. One last word. Before I meet the butcher, I insist on meeting the man who hired him. Lieutenant Essaieff will act for me."

With that I left the room, feeling that although I was now all but certain to be killed by Durescq I should at least die as became "that devil Alexis."