ANGER.
CHAPTER I.
THE DUEL.
About the middle of the carnival season of 1801, a season enlivened by the news of the treaty of peace signed at Lunéville, when Bonaparte was First Consul of the French republic, the following scene took place in a secluded spot overshadowed by the partially dismantled ramparts of the city of Orléans.
It was seven o'clock in the morning, day was just dawning, and the cold was intense, as a tall man, enveloped in a big overcoat of a dark colour, walked to and fro blowing his fingers and stamping his feet, watching intently all the while a narrow footpath that wound around the side of the bastion. In about ten minutes another man, wrapped in a cloak, and heretofore concealed from sight by the projecting wall of the bastion, appeared in the path and hastily advanced toward the man in the long coat.
"I feared I should be late," remarked the man in the cloak.
"We have a quarter of an hour yet," replied the other. "Have you got the swords?"
"Here they are. I had a good deal of trouble in finding them; that was what detained me. Have you seen Yvon this morning?"
"No; he told me last night that I need not call for him. He feared that our going out together so early would excite his wife's suspicions."
"Well, while we are waiting for him, do enlighten me as to the cause of this quarrel. He was in too much of a hurry last night to tell me anything about the trouble."
"Well, this is about the long and short of it. At the last meeting of the court, a lawyer, named Laurent, made a rather transparent allusion to the pretended partiality of our friend, one of the judges before whom the case was tried."