"And I at yours, Señor."
The two adversaries saluted one another with the sabre, and put themselves on guard at the same moment, with perfect grace.
The sabre is, in our opinion, an arm too much disdained, and which ought, on the contrary, to have the preference over the sword in duels, as it has in battles.
The sabre is the true weapon of the military man—officer or soldier. The sword is, on the contrary, only an arm for a gentleman on parade, and is now assumed by persons who, for the most part, carry it at their sides without knowing how to use it.
The sword is a serpent, its bite is mortal. It makes one liable, in using it for a futile cause in a duel, to kill a brave man. The sabre, on the contrary, only makes large wounds which it is easy to heal, and which nearly always it is possible to graduate according to the gravity of the offence received, without risking the life of one's adversary.
The two men, as we have said, had put themselves on their guard. After another bow, the combat commenced, and they exchanged a few passes, mutually feeling their way, as it were, and only using their weapons with extreme prudence.
The Spanish officer was what may be called a good duellist. With a somewhat effeminate appearance, he had a wrist of iron and muscles of steel. His style of fencing was broad and elegant; he appeared to handle his weapon, which was rather heavy, as if he had had a mere reed in his hand.
The style of the French painter was more compact, more nervous, his blows, more unforeseen, and certainly more rapid.
However, the combat did not last long, before it was easy to see with whom would rest the victory. On a sudden, the sabre of the captain leaped into the air, carried away as if by a sling, and fell at a great distance off.
The Frenchman darted off immediately, picked up his adversary's weapon, and presenting it to him: