I saw that they were right, according to the code of the day, and I began, in spite of myself, to feel a willingness for the combat. Catron said that they were persecuting me, and that word "Persecute" began to inflame my anger. I would show them that persecuting had its risks.
"I am not much of a swordsman," I said; "but I am a good shot, and so I choose pistols at twenty paces."
"Then pistols it is," said Catron; "and now for a letter to Belfort, who is to be Schwarzfelder's second, which will show that we know how to manage such an affair as this in the most courteous manner."
Then we set ourselves to the task of writing the letter,—a labor that was by no means small,—and while we were hard-set at it, Waters came into the room again and saluted.
"Well?" said Catron, impatiently.
"Your honor," said Waters, apologetically, "there is some news of interest in the city, and I thought that you would pardon me for telling it to you."
"Wait! Do you not see that we are busy? You should not interrupt!" replied Marcel.
"But this is a most extraordinary affair, and the whole town is ringing with it," rejoined the man.
I saw now that his eyes were sparkling after the manner of one who has a budget of good gossip to tell and is anxious to tell it. The others noticed it too, and our own curiosity began to rise.
"What is it, Waters?" I asked.