"Yes, at ten o'clock."
"Are you going to fight?" asked Arborio, with evident curiosity.
"Yes."
He hesitated a little, and then added:
"May I ask with whom, if it is not an indiscretion?"
"With Eugenio Egano."
I noticed that he would have liked to learn more, but that he was restrained by the coldness of my attitude and my apparent inattention.
"Maestro," I said, "I'll give you five minutes."
I turned my back to go to the dressing-room. At the door I stopped, and glancing back, saw that Arborio had recommenced to fence. One glance sufficed to show me that he was a very poor swordsman.
When, watched by all the persons present, I engaged with the fencing-master, a singular nervous excitement seized upon me and redoubled my energy. I felt Arborio's eyes were fastened on me.