“I believe, sir,” said I, “I comprehend your meaning; I hope there will be no fear of your mistaking mine.”
With that I drew off the long gauntlet glove I wore, and struck him across the face.
Every man sprang backwards as I did so, as though a shell had fallen in the midst of us; while a deep voice called out from behind, “Le Capitaine Amédée Pichot is under arrest.”
I turned, and beheld the provost-marshal with his guard approach, and take my adversary's sword from him.
“What charge is this, Marshal?” said he, as a livid color spread over his cheek.
“Your duel of yesterday, Capitaine; you seem to forget all about it already.”
“Whenever and wherever you please, sir,” said I, passing close beside him, and speaking in a whisper.
He nodded without uttering a word in reply, and moved after the guard, while the others dispersed silently, and left me standing alone in the Place.
What would I not have given at that moment for but one friend to counsel and advise me; and yet, save the general, to whom I dared not speak on such a subject, I had not one in the whole world. It was, indeed, but too true, that life had little value for me; yet never did I contemplate a duel with more abhorrence. The insult I had inflicted, however, could have no other result. While I reasoned thus, the door of the café, opened, and the general appeared.
“Burke,” cried he, “come in here, and make a hasty supper; you must be in the saddle in half an hour.”