D'Alvimar played promptly and with resolution. Bois-Doré, more moderate in his play, made long pauses, during which the Spaniard gazed with some impatience at the objects that surrounded him. His eyes naturally rested more than once on a sort of what-not that stood against the wall at his left, quite near him. Gradually the object that was most prominent among the bibelots with which the little piece of furniture was covered, attracted and monopolized his attention, and Lucilio noticed that he smiled satirically and angrily every time that his eyes fell upon that object.
It was a naked, gleaming dagger, lying on a black velvet cushion with gold fringe, and protected by a glass globe.
"What is it?" said the marquis at last. "You seem distraught. You are in check, messire, and I do not wish to beat you so easily. Something disturbs or annoys you. Are we too near that piece of furniture, would you like to move the table away from it?"
"No," replied D'Alvimar, "I am very comfortable; but I confess that there is something in that pretty stand which distracts my mind. Will you answer a single question, if it be not impertinent?"
"You could ask no question which would be, messire. Speak, I beg you."
"Very well, I ask you, my dear marquis, how it happens that you have here reposing triumphantly on a cushion, under glass, your humble servant's travelling weapon?"
"Oh! you are mistaken, my guest! I did not obtain that knife from you."
"I know that I did not give it to you; but I know that it was given to you by the one to whom I gave it, of which fact, perhaps, you may not be ignorant. I understand that any gift from a fair hand is precious to you; but it seems to me very hard upon those less fortunate to exhibit thus the trophy of your victory before the eyes of a discarded rival."
"Your words are enigmas to me."
"What! surely my sight is not failing me! Will you allow me to raise the glass and obtain a closer view?"