She learned that he had set out in one of the motor-cars with the hood up. M. de la Boulays was in his study, unconscious of what was happening. At that juncture the small racing car returned, and the chauffeur told Françoise that Captain d'Haumont had missed the train and had ordered him to drive to an hotel.
She sprang into the car, a prey to the gloomiest forebodings. It seemed a forgone conclusion to her that de Gorbio, furious at the manner in which she had openly slighted him and with Didier for his attitude towards him, was in pursuit with a view of challenging him. The deed, perhaps, was already done. Her memory harked back to the Count's wonderful prowess with the pistol, and she shuddered. Besides, she had learned with certainty that his car had preceded her by an hour. . . .
Her feeling of anguish increased every moment almost to the point of suffocation. She was convinced that the two men were in the very act of fighting. They could not even wait until the next morning!
When she reached the hotel and discovered that Didier was in his room safe and sound, she wept tears of joy. She ran up to his room and knocked wildly at the door. The Captain himself opened it.
"You're going to fight a duel," she burst out, addressing him in the familiar second person which spoke volumes for their love which, when they were alone, had never been in question. They both remained as motionless as statues. "Forgive me," she went on, while a deep blush mantled her cheeks. "Oh, forgive me." And she sank into a chair, sobbing aloud.
"Yes, Françoise, it's true. I'm fighting a duel to-morrow morning."
"Oh, good heavens!" she cried. And then, with a look of dismay: "What are you fighting with? Pistols? You saw what that wretched man can do with a pistol. He will kill you."
"Yes," answered Didier simply, transfigured by an immense joy. "Yes, he will kill me. . . . There's no way out of it. But I shall die the happiest of men because you came to me."
She rose from her chair and took his hands in hers.
"You will not fight. I don't want it and you don't want it. You must not fight. You are a soldier. In war time a soldier fights only against the enemy. You would be guilty of an act of treason if you were to fight. No, no; you will not fight."