"Monsieur, I have no enmity to this Sir William Hope, nor am I envious of his great name as a fencer. Ma foi! the world is quite wide enough for us both; but here lies my secret. I love Mademoiselle Athalie, the niece of Madame de Livry——"
"How—the old flame of the great Louis!"
"Oui," said Lemercier, smiling; "and many say that Athalie bears a somewhat suspicious resemblance to her aunt's royal lover; but that is no business of mine; she loves me very dearly, and is very good and amiable. Diable! I am well content to take her and her thirty thousand louis-d'or without making any troublesome inquiries. It would seem that my dear little Athalie is immensely vain of my reputation as a master of fence, and having heard that this Scottish Chevalier is esteemed the first man of the sword in Britain, and further, that report asserts he slew her brother in the line of battle at Blenheim, fighting bravely for a standard, she declared that ere her hand was mine, I must measure swords with this Sir William, and dip this, her handkerchief, in his blood in token of his defeat, and of my conquest."
"A very pretty idea of Mademoiselle Athalie, and I doubt not Hopetoun will be overwhelmed by the obligation when he hears of it," said the Major of Orkney's, whose face brightened with a broad laugh, "and so much would I love to see two such brisk fellows as thou and he yoked together, at cut-and-thrust, that if permitted, I will rejoice in bearing the message of M. Lemercier to Sir William, whose Castle of Balcomie is close by here."
"Having no friend with me, I accept your offer with a thousand thanks," said Lemercier.
"Sir William did indeed slay an officer, as you have said, in that charge at Blenheim, where the regiment of the Marquis de Livry were cut to pieces by Orkney's Scots' Greys; but to be so good and amiable, and to love you so much withal, Mademoiselle Athalie must be a brisk dame to urge her favoured Chevalier on a venture so desperate; for mark me, Monsieur Lemercier," said the Major, impressively, "none can know better than I the skill—the long and carefully-studied skill—of Sir William of Hopetoun, and permit me to warn you——"
"It matters not—I must fight him; love, honour, and rivalry, too, if you will have it so, all spur me on, and no time must be lost."
"Enough; I should have been in my stirrups an hour ago; and dark though the night be, I will ride to Balcomie with your message."
"A million of thanks—you will choose time and place for me."
"Say, to-morrow, at sunrise; be thou at the Standing-stone of Sauchope; 't is a tall, rough block, in the fields near the Castle of Balcomie, and doubt not but Sir William will meet thee there."