“Man John, what d’ye mean?”
“Robert, pray how many duels have I had forced upon me since we came to Paris five years since?”
“Twenty-three, Sir John.”
“And most of ’em gentlemen newly arrived from England—mark that also, Hector! Gentlemen, these, who ha’ scarce made my acquaintance than they discover an urgent desire to cross steel with me. Some day I may have an accident and kill one of them, which would grieve me, since he would die in evil cause, Hector.”
“Man Jack, what cause are ye meaning?”
“The cause of my Lady Herminia Barrasdaile, Hector, beyond doubt!”
Sir Hector made a turn up and down the room.
“But save us a’,” he exclaimed, halting suddenly, “the wumman must be a pairfict deevil!”
“Nay, she’s merely a vengeful female, Hector.”