“Yes, I,” he answered, with cold, cruel irony; “you know very well I have. Come, where is this rival who is going to carry you off to dance from under my very beard?”
“Here!” exclaimed Cristiano, losing his self-control, and advancing upon the baron in a threatening manner, while all the spectators, stupefied into silence, looked on with curiosity and amazement.
It was very well known that the baron, in spite of his sluggish and blasé manner, was extremely irascible, and indomitably proud. Every one expected a violent scene; and, in fact, a greenish pallor overspread instantaneously the baron’s face, and he opened and shut his large and short-sighted eyes, as if to emit a flash of lightning for the annihilation of the audacious unknown who defied him so openly. But instantly the blood rushed back to his forehead, on which one large, engorged vein rose like a ridge, while his lips became more livid than the rest of his face. An indistinct cry escaped him, his arms extended convulsively, and he fell forward, exclaiming:
“There it is! There it is!”
He would have fallen upon the floor, had not twenty arms interposed. He had fainted; and they carried him to a window, and unceremoniously broke the panes to give him fresh air. Olga made her way through the crowd to bear him assistance. Margaret disappeared as if her aunt had whisked her off by conjuration; and Cristiano was rapidly led away by Major Osmund Larrson, who had taken a great liking to him.
“Come along with me,” said the good-natured young fellow; “I must speak with you.”
In a few moments Cristiano and Osmund were alone in an antique room on the ground-floor, warmed by an immense fire-place.
“We can smoke here,” said the major. “Here’s a rack, well filled; suit yourself with a pipe, and here’s the tobacco. That beer on the table is the best in the country, and here’s some capital old Dantzic brandy. My comrades will be down in a moment to tell us the latest news of the affair.”
“My dear major,” said Cristiano, “I see you think me extremely angry, but you are mistaken. Let the baron get over his attack; I will smoke here with you until he is ready for an explanation.”
“But for what purpose? to fight a duel?” said the major. “Bah! The baron never fights; he never has fought. You do not know him at all, then?”