“Of course—of course—I admit it,” said Beaumagnan ironically. “Only I’m not a schoolboy; and I take precautions. That letter was given back to me by the Baron at the beginning of the meeting. I burned it.”
“You burned the copy that was given to you. I took the precaution of keeping the original myself. I found it in the secret drawer of the Baron’s roll-top desk. It is the original that my friend will hand over to the police.”
The ring that had formed round Ralph broke. The savage faces of the Baron and his cousins no longer expressed anything but fear and anguish. Ralph gathered that the duel was at an end, and that without any real struggle—just a few feints and thrusts and parries. He had handled the affair with such skill and by his adroitness manœuvred Beaumagnan into such a tragic situation, that, in the condition of mind in which he found himself, he could no longer get a clear view of the facts or discern his adversary’s weak points. For after all, with regard to this letter of which Ralph declared he had the original: on what did that assertion rest? On nothing whatever. So that it had finally come about that Beaumagnan, after having demanded of Ralph an irrefutable proof before giving way, had by a singular anomaly, under the young man’s adroit pressure, remained quite content with his bare assertion.
He gave ground quite suddenly without any effort to make terms. He opened a drawer, took out the seven rings, and said simply: “What assurance have I that you will not use that letter against us?”
“You have my word, monsieur,” said Ralph. “Besides, where we are concerned circumstances never repeat themselves exactly—next time you will find a way of getting the upper hand.”
“You may be sure of that, young man,” said Beaumagnan; and he ground his teeth.
Ralph seized the rings with a trembling hand. Each of them had indeed a name engraved on its inside. On a scrap of paper he wrote quickly down the names of the seven abbeys:
Fécamp, Saint Wandrille, Jumièges, Valmont, Gruchet le Valasse, Montvilliers, Saint-Georges de Boscherville.
Beaumagnan rang the bell. But when the servant came he bade him wait in the hall, and turning to Ralph, he said:
“Just one thing more: I’ll make you an offer. You know the task we have set ourselves. You know exactly the point to which our efforts have brought us, and that the end is not so very far off?”