"Lord Spunyarn," replied the Frenchman, "I come to you this morning purely as the emissary of my insulted friend; not to accept of your kindness, or to trespass on your hospitality."
"Oh, of course I understand that; but you see we English don't fight duels as a rule. Of course I should be sorry to balk you, but can't it be arranged?"
"Lord Spunyarn, you are aware that my friend was struck. In my country, no gentleman receives a blow without avenging it. Least of all a journalist or a diplomate. My friend Monsieur Barbiche was one, and is the other. In speaking of arrangement, milor, I would suggest that we are wasting time."
"But I don't quite see that," persisted Spunyarn, strong in his idea that the man who fights a duel is a fool. "You see there was a lady in the matter, and your friend insulted her. Why man, he actually touched her, I saw him do it."
"Milor, ladies who go to masked balls are accustomed to such marks of attention. What my friend did was but a condescension on his part. But there was a blow struck, milor. Besides this, Monsieur Haggard has referred me to his friend Lord Spunyarn, I suppose with a definite purpose, and not with the intention of causing me to listen to, shall we say homilies, from his lordship."
"The whole affair's a beastly nuisance. I don't understand these things, but I will try to settle the matter."
"Milor, the matter admits of no settlement," said the Breton menacingly, rising from his chair.
"I tell you plainly, Monsieur de Kerguel, it is very much against the grain that I have anything to do with the matter. Unfortunately, as you say, I was present, and I tell you that our friend Barbiche behaved like a lunatic. Why he kicked my hat off, and I don't want to call him out."
Monsieur de Kerguel smiled. "If your lordship is in any way aggrieved by my friend's conduct, you have your remedy."
"Oh, I could have had my remedy last night; if I had felt aggrieved, as you call it, I should have done exactly what Haggard did—I should have punched his head, you know."