‘As one man to another, I only have to say what I see you already understand. You wrote those letters to a married woman. She should have burnt them, it is true; but she did not. If she is compromised by the consequences, the fault is ultimately yours. If there is a breath upon her honour, there will be a stain on yours.’
‘You put things plainly, for a priest,’ said Castiglione.
‘In that, I do not speak as a monk, but as a man, Captain.’
‘And very much like a soldier. What you say is true, and I shall act with the conviction that my own honour is in danger.’
‘It is not every man that would do that,’ said the monk thoughtfully. ‘Most of you, in your class, would say that the fault was the lady’s in keeping dangerous letters, not yours in writing them. I come to the second point.’
‘You have something to say from the point of view of religion, I understand,’ said Castiglione gravely. ‘I shall listen with respect, though I may not agree with you.’
‘Thank you. In an affair of this kind an officer may always be placed in such a position as to believe it his duty to fight a duel.’
‘With an absconding steward and a blackmailer?’ Castiglione smiled.
‘No. With the lady’s husband or brother.’