“That we 'll all go back and lunch at the 'Luna;' for there's no-nothing to fight about.”
Norwood pushed by him contemptuously, and with hurried steps walked up to where the old Colonel stood. “You are a French officer, sir,” said he, “and I rely upon your honor that, whether from the ignorance or inaptitude of that gentleman, no blame may attach itself to me in this business. I have no apology to offer, nor any amende save one.”
“Very well, sir, we are ready,” said the Colonel. “I will ask one of my countrymen to act for you, for I see you are in very indifferent hands.”
And now, like men who were well accustomed to the task, they set about the details of the duel; while Purvis, being at full liberty, slipped from the spot, and retired into the wood.
“You 've won the first fire, my Lord,” said a young Frenchman to Norwood. “The conditions are twelve paces—back to back—to torn at the word, and fire.”
Norwood bowed, and, without speaking, followed the other to the spot where he was to stand. As he waited thus, pistol in hand, he was directly opposite to the place wherein Purvis had taken refuge, and who, seeing Norwood in front of him, with a cocked pistol, and his finger on the trigger, uttered a scream of terror, and fell flat on the ground. Before the rest could discover the cause of the outcry, a shout from outside of “The Police!” “The Gendarmes!” was heard, and Dr. Grounsell rushed into the garden, followed by several dismounted dragoons. In an instant all were away. Norwood sprang over a low balcony into a vineyard; while in various directions the others scampered off, leaving Purvis alone upon the field.
But too happy to have fallen into the safe keeping of the authorities, Purvis accepted his captivity with a most placid contentment.
“Where's Captain Onslow? Have you seen him, sir?” whispered Grounsell to him.
“I have seen everybody, but I don't re-remember anything. It's all a dr-dr-dream to me.”
“There was no duel? They hadn't fought?” asked Grounsell.