We arrived tranquilly on the ground with Ismaël, laughing at this mishap. I should mention the fact that De Cernay, being the owner of a beautiful black Arab horse, and wishing to be as gracious as possible to his "lion," had offered it to Ismaël as a mount. The renegade had accepted, and his characteristic, dark face, and strange, brilliant costume contrasted violently with, and served, as no doubt M. de Cernay had foreseen, to accentuate the Parisian elegance of the latter.
Once on the ground, I got off my horse and mingled with the habitués of the races, among whom I found several of my acquaintances. It was then that I saw the frightful obstacle which was to be leaped over, after the two miles had been run and the hedges crossed.
Fancy a beam raised five feet above the ground, and nailed across two perpendicular posts like a gate across a road.
It was then that the story M. de Cernay had told me, strange as it was, and contrary to all our usual customs, began to seem credible, and to explain why these two young men were about to run such a terrible risk.
There was quite a crowd of people around the barrier, who were quite as incredulous as I. They asked each other why two young men, who were rich and in the best society, should risk their lives in such a way as this. They wondered if the race was for an enormous sum of money, as that might in a certain way justify such foolish bravery; but the purse was but two hundred louis.
At last, after many foolish conjectures, several of the spectators, who were conversant with the happenings in high life, arrived, either from their own convictions or from being prompted by M. de Cernay's story,—arrived, I say, at the same conclusion as he did, and gave the same interpretation to this deadly duel.
This hypothesis was very generally admitted; because, in the first place, it had the irresistible attraction of maliciousness; and, secondly, because any explication of the silliest as well as the most serious question, which appears to solve the long and vainly sought answer to the enigma, is hailed with delight.
So that very soon I heard here and there such exclamations as the following: "Is it possible?" "Ah, really! now that explains it all." "What utter folly!" "What thoughtful tact!" "How foolhardy to run such risks for a scornful coquette!" "It is just like her to permit such behaviour!" "The devilish little marquise! It is disgusting!" "Incredible!" etc.
I had not the time to question M. de Cernay as to any details about the performers in this extraordinary entertainment, so while the public was venting its indignation on Madame de Pënâfiel, I happened to notice Sir Henry ——, a great sportsman of my acquaintance, and thought that perhaps he could give me some interesting information.
"Well," said I, "this race will be exciting enough, I hope! Can you tell me which is the favourite?"