It was a foolish speech. I knew it the moment it was out. But I never had acquired self-restraint when aggravated by those I disliked—and I despised Lotzen. Possibly, he had far better ground for despising me. Had our positions been reversed, I am quite sure I would have viewed him much as he did me—a foreigner—an interloper—a scheming usurper—a thief.
My explosion seemed to calm the Duke. He looked at me, intently, for a moment; then bowed gravely.
"I beg Your Highness's pardon," he said; "you are not a coward."
I might not be outdone, so I bowed back at him. "Thank you," said I; "and I also beg your pardon and withdraw my adjectives."
"Merci, Your Highness," he answered. "Let us consider the matter closed?"
"With pleasure," said I.
"And I shall hope to have the honor of crossing swords—foils, I mean, with you, some day," he said meaningly.
"The hope is intensely mutual, my dear Duke," I answered.
He drew himself up to attention and saluted stiffly. I returned it in kind.
"And, with Your Highness's permission," I said, "I shall ask you to refrain from communicating with Mrs. Spencer. I appreciate your offer but, upon second thought, I doubt the wisdom of it."