“And now, mon ami, let us forget this stupid thought of death, and look life saucily and merrily in the face. Life will not have the courage to break with a brave son of la belle France.”
Belleville drew his bridle suddenly, and sprang through the gate into the garden; turning to the right, they rode for some time under the shadow of the trees, then through a side allee, which led to an open place surrounded by lofty oaks. At this moment he heard the roll of an open carriage, and turning, he saluted gayly the two gentlemen who were seated in it; he checked his horse suddenly in order to ride by their side, and provoking the beautiful and noble beast by the rude use of his spurs, he forced it into many difficult and artistic evolutions. Arrived at the place of rendezvous, he sprang lightly from the saddle and fastened his horse to a tree, then drew near Baron Marshal, who, with Ranuzi, was just descending from the carriage.
“No man could be more prudent than yourself, sir,” said he, laughing, “to come to a rendezvous in a carriage; truly, that is a wise and, I think on this occasion, well-grounded precaution.”
“A forethought which I have exercised on your account,” said the baron, gravely. “You, sir, will require a carriage, and knowing you, as a stranger, had no carriage in Berlin, I brought mine. It shall be at your service.”
“Vraiment! you are too good! I hope, however, not to make use of your offer.”
Now, according to custom, Ranuzi drew near the baron to make a last attempt at reconciliation. He answered sternly: “You know that I am not to blame, and therefore will take no step in this matter. I suppose, Count Belleville is as little disposed as myself to make apologies.”
“I intend to prove to you, sir baron, that I am a nobleman and a brave one; and as to the nuts which I cracked behind the queen, my only regret is, that they, like every thing else in your detested Berlin, were hollow—”
“No, sir, they were not at all hollow,” said Baron Marshal, drawing up the cock of his pistol; “in one of those nuts I saw a death-worm, which will soon bore into your flesh.”
He bowed to Belleville and took the place pointed out by his second. The second of Belleville then drew near, and led him to the outermost point of the line.
The Frenchman laughed aloud. “How,” said he, “you will take me to the end of the world to secure me from the ball of my enemy?”