But the apology would require an explanation—the embroglio was curious and complicated—and the explanation could only be properly understood by giving the details viva voce.
I resolved, therefore, to waive all ceremony, and, trusting to the generosity of my accidental enemy, to return to him in propria persona.
Quaffing off my claret; and flinging away the stump of my cigar, I walked directly to Number 16, Rue Royale.
To my gratification I found the young avocat in his office; and I was further satisfied by perceiving that I was in good time. No message had yet been sent to the Saint Charles—though I had no doubt that the military-looking gentleman whom I met in the office was upon the eve of such an errand. My appearance must have been as little expected as that of the “man in the moon.”
I shall not trouble the reader by detailing the apology. The explanation is known already. Suffice it to say, that when Monsieur De Hauteroche heard it, he not only acted in the true spirit of a gentleman; but, from an enemy, became transformed into a friend. Perceiving that I was a stranger, he generously invited me to renew my visit; and, with a hearty laugh at the outré style of our introduction, we parted.
Casey’s more serious affair was still upon my mind; and I hurried home to the hotel.
As I expected, Casey would send the challenge; and, as I almost confidently anticipated, the other accepted it. It ended in a duel, and I need hardly add that swords were the weapons.
I refrain from giving a description of this duel, which differed only from about a million of others—minutely described by romance writers—in being one of the very shortest of combats. At the very first passage Casey received (and I esteemed it very fortunate that he did so) his adversary’s sword through the muscles of his right arm—completely disabling him. That was all the satisfaction he ever got for the loss of his repeater!
Of course this rude thrust ended the combat; and Monsieur Jacques Despard marched off the ground without a scratch upon his person or a blemish on his name.
Casey, however, still asserted—though, of course, not publicly—“that the fellow took the watch;” and I afterwards found good reason to believe he did take it.