There was the satisfaction that but one victim could be slain, for the aggressor in a fatal duel was sure to be punished by removal into some corps stationed at a distance.
Rupert was silent during these discussions, but he silently determined that he would, if the opportunity offered, take up the gauntlet, for he argued that he was the primary cause of the feud; and remembering the words of Monsieur Dessin and Maitre Dalboy, he thought that, skillful a swordsman as Muller might be, he would yet have at least a fair chance of victory, while he knew that so much could not be said for any of the other officers of his regiment.
The opportunity occurred two days later. Rupert, with his friend Dillon, went down to the large saloon, which was the usual rendezvous with his friends Fairholm and Loveday. The place was crowded with officers, but Rupert soon perceived his friends, sitting at a small table. He and Dillon placed two chairs there also, and were engaged in conversation when a sudden lull in the buzz of talk caused them to look up.
Captain Muller had just entered the saloon with a friend, and the lull was caused by curiosity. As his boast had been the matter of public talk; and as all noticed that two officers of the 5th were present, it was anticipated that a scene would ensue.
A glance at Dillon's face showed that the blood had left his cheek; for, brave as the Irishman was, the prospect of being killed like a dog by this native swordsman could not but be terrible to him, and he did not doubt for a moment that he would be selected. Captain Muller walked leisurely up to the bar, drank off a bumper of raw Geneva, and then turned and looked round the room. As his eyes fell on the uniform of the 5th, a look of satisfaction came over his face, and fixing his eyes on Dillon, he walked leisurely across the room.
Rupert happened to be sitting on the outside of the table, and he at once rose and as calmly advanced towards the German.
There was now a dead silence in the room, and all listened intently to hear what the lad had to say to the duellist. Rupert spoke first; and although he did not raise his voice in the slightest, not a sound was lost from one end of the room to the other.
"Captain Muller," he said, "I hear that you have made a boast that you will kill the first officer of my regiment whom you met. I am, I think, the first, and you have now the opportunity of proving whether you are a mere cutthroat, or a liar."
A perfect gasp of astonishment was heard in the room. Dillon leapt to his feet, exclaiming, "No, Rupert, I will not allow it! I am your senior officer."
And the gallant fellow would have pushed forward, had not Lord Fairholm put his hand on his shoulder and forced him back, saying: