SERGIUS.
You have deceived me. You are my rival. I brook no rivals. At six o’clock I shall be in the drilling-ground on the Klissoura road, alone, on horseback, with my sabre. Do you understand?
BLUNTSCHLI.
(staring, but sitting quite at his ease). Oh, thank you: that’s a cavalry man’s proposal. I’m in the artillery; and I have the choice of weapons. If I go, I shall take a machine gun. And there shall be no mistake about the cartridges this time.
SERGIUS.
(flushing, but with deadly coldness). Take care, sir. It is not our custom in Bulgaria to allow invitations of that kind to be trifled with.
BLUNTSCHLI.
(warmly). Pooh! don’t talk to me about Bulgaria. You don’t know what fighting is. But have it your own way. Bring your sabre along. I’ll meet you.
SERGIUS.
(fiercely delighted to find his opponent a man of spirit). Well said, Switzer. Shall I lend you my best horse?
BLUNTSCHLI.
No: damn your horse!—-thank you all the same, my dear fellow. (Raina comes in, and hears the next sentence.) I shall fight you on foot. Horseback’s too dangerous: I don’t want to kill you if I can help it.
RAINA.
(hurrying forward anxiously). I have heard what Captain Bluntschli said, Sergius. You are going to fight. Why? (Sergius turns away in silence, and goes to the stove, where he stands watching her as she continues, to Bluntschli) What about?
BLUNTSCHLI.
I don’t know: he hasn’t told me. Better not interfere, dear young lady. No harm will be done: I’ve often acted as sword instructor. He won’t be able to touch me; and I’ll not hurt him. It will save explanations. In the morning I shall be off home; and you’ll never see me or hear of me again. You and he will then make it up and live happily ever after.
RAINA.
(turning away deeply hurt, almost with a sob in her voice). I never said I wanted to see you again.
SERGIUS.
(striding forward). Ha! That is a confession.