‘Meanwhile,’ said Castiglione, trying to bring him back to the subject in hand, ‘I am afraid something very disagreeable may happen.’
‘What is that?’ asked the Colonel, following his own amusing thoughts and still smiling.
‘You see, I have never fought a duel, and as I am not inclined to let de Maurienne run me through, I might kill him. There would be very serious trouble if an Italian officer killed a French diplomatist, I suppose, not to mention the fact that I should have to spend a couple of years in a fortress.’
‘You are afraid you might upset the European concert, are you?’ The Colonel seemed much amused at the idea. ‘But it is all nonsense, Castiglione. There is not going to be any fight.’
‘But the man called me a coward to my face, Colonel! What am I to do?’
‘Go home and go to bed. It’s the only safe place when Teresa is on the war-path. If you want an excuse, I’ll put you under arrest in your rooms, but that seems useless. Go home and go to bed, I tell you!’
‘It’s rather early,’ objected Castiglione, smiling. ‘And meanwhile Monsieur de Maurienne will be sitting up waiting for my friends.’
‘Dear Captain,’ said Casalmaggiore, ‘I have not the least idea what Monsieur de Maurienne will do. If I say that I will be responsible for your honour as for my own, and for that of the Piedmont Lancers, and if I tell you that there will be no duel, Monsieur de Maurienne may sit up all night, for weeks and weeks, so far as you are concerned.’
‘That is a very different matter,’ answered Castiglione gravely. ‘I have nothing more to say. If my honour can be safer anywhere than in my own keeping, it will be so in your hands. Do you really wish me to stay at home this evening?’