“Come, come, my friend; just slide off that high horse.”
“Lieutenant Somers, my word has been doubted; my good faith maligned; my character for truth and veracity questioned.”
“Yes, I know all that very well; but answer me one question, captain. Seriously and solemnly, were you at the battle of Magenta?”
“I decline to answer one who doubts my veracity. If I answered you in the affirmative, you would not believe me.”
“I don’t think I should; but, if you should answer me in the negative, I should have full faith in your reply.”
“I cannot answer on those terms. Somers, I am offended. I don’t know but that I am in duty bound to challenge you. Just after the battle of Magenta, I felt compelled to challenge a young officer who cast an imputation upon my word. We fought, and he fell. His brother challenged me then, and I had to put a bullet through his head. The family were Corsicans, I believe; and one after another challenged me, till they got down to fifth cousins; and I laid out fifteen of them—I think it was fifteen; I don’t remember the exact number, but I could tell by referring to my diary. You are so precise and particular, that I want to give you the facts just as they are.”
“You haven’t the diary with you, I suppose?”
“Of course not; I couldn’t carry a volume like that around with me. I only mention this circumstance to show you the sad results which sometimes follow in the wake of a duel.”
“But I’m not a Corsican; and I don’t think you need fear any such results in my case, if you should conclude to challenge me,” answered Somers with abundant good nature.
“Now, seriously and solemnly, Somers, this doubting a comrade’s word is a vicious habit. It shows that you have no confidence in what I say.”