"Englishmen have a manner of calling things by their right names," he suavely observed.
"And you propose to—"
"Fight," he drawled. "I really don't care about it, but there's a medium in all things, you know. Not but what he's been most obliging. Except that I'm imprisoned till I give him what he calls satisfaction, I've been very comfortable. Even allowed, on my word of honor not to communicate the peculiar circumstances, to send my private despatches to England."
I shuddered as I thought of those despatches. Truth to tell, in the excitement of the situation, they and Monsieur Roché's distress had left my memory.
"But if you wound or kill him, Sir Edward?"
"I shall do neither."
"But, if he—" I paused, and Sir Edward gravely shook his head.
"Not the faintest chance in the world," he said. "I shall tire him out, and disarm him, thus abundantly proving my theory that these affairs of honor in France are arranged with the minimum of inconvenience to either party."
I could not repress a smile; there was such a wealth of humor in this duel, where neither party intended to injure the other.
"It is merely an exhibition of swordsmanship, Sir Edward?"