I was as much surprised at the request as I had been when she asked me why Belfort and I were to meet. It was my first thought that she was in fear for him, and I asked with a little malice,—
"Do you make the same request of Lieutenant Belfort?"
When I saw the faint flush of color rising in her face, I was sorry that I had asked the question.
"No," she replied, "I would not make such a request of him, although I have known him longer than I have you."
I was pleased, greatly pleased; but she reminded me that I had not answered her question.
"The challenge has been issued," I said, "and if I withdraw at so late a moment I should be called a coward. Would you have me bear such a name in Philadelphia?"
"No; but is there no other way?"
"None that I know of."
A look of sadness replaced the flush on her face.
"It is a barbarous custom, I think," she said, "and belongs to a barbarous age. It is merely the better swordsman or marksman who wins, and not of necessity the better man. It decides no more than the hot ploughshare of the Middle Ages, and of the two customs I think the trial by hot iron was the saner."