“Go,” I said, “and assure my neighbor that I will be on hand promptly.”
My concierge, proud of her ambassadorship in a matter of such moment, made me the inevitable reverence and returned with my answer to Raymond, who was probably waiting in her lodge, swaggering gallantly before the gossips and housemaids, so that the whole household might know that he had an affair of honor on hand. I confess that I did not expect such a challenge from my neighbor. What weapons should I take? He did not mention the subject, and I had an idea that none would be needed; however, I concluded to put my pistols in my pocket. Who could say? perhaps I had judged Raymond ill. Moreover, madmen have their lucid moments, misers are sometimes extravagant, tyrants have paroxysms of kindliness, coquettes moments of sincerity, rascals gleams of honesty; and cowards, too, may have their days of valor.
XVII
MY DUEL WITH MY NEIGHBOR
I went to the rendezvous at the appointed hour. The weather was fine, delightful for walking, and everybody was out of doors. I could not avoid the reflection that my neighbor had selected for our duel an hour when it was very hard not to be seen; I knew that he was very fond of putting himself in evidence, but it seemed to me that that was not an opportune occasion for so doing; he was evidently quite capable of choosing his ground in front of a guardhouse. However, I concluded to be patient and to await events before judging him.
When I arrived at Porte Maillot I did not see Raymond. It was not yet one o’clock, so I strolled about in the neighborhood. Little did I think that morning that I should go to the Bois de Boulogne before night, and alone. Caroline, I thought, must be surprised at my non-appearance. In truth, it did imply rather a lack of warmth; and if she were exacting, she would be justified in scolding me. But I knew a sure way to make peace with her; it is easy enough to find a way when love still exists; only in old liaisons, or between those who have been long married, do quarrels destroy love, because in such cases the methods of reconciliation are no longer the same.
At half-past one, no one had appeared. Could it be that my neighbor had deliberately sent me on a fool’s errand; I realized that he was likely to require a vast deal of preparation before fighting a duel; but it seemed to me that he had had plenty of time since eight o’clock in the morning to make his little arrangements, and to go about to tell all his acquaintances that he had an affair of honor on hand. Could he have gone to warn the police? Such things had been done; but, no, it was he who had sent the challenge; I was doing him an injustice. Poor Raymond! the dinner episode was terrific, beyond question, and he must have been terribly incensed at me, especially if he believed me to be the author also of the ingenious trick of pasting his picture on the wall on Rue Vivienne. But why that rhodomontade of sending me a challenge by the concierge? if he had no intention of fighting, he should have come to see me at my rooms; I would have confessed my faults, while laughing at the affair, for I am not one of those men who refuse to atone for the foolish pranks they have committed except by cutting the throats of the persons they have offended. I consider that there is more glory in avowing one’s fault frankly, and fighting afterward if the avowal does not give satisfaction.
Almost two o’clock! I lost my patience; I was tired of walking; moreover, the weather had changed, and the sky was overcast; a storm seemed impending, and I had no desire to await it in the woods. The idlers had become fewer, the riders were digging their spurs into their horses’ sides, the coachmen cracking their whips; everybody was hurrying back to the city. I determined to go with the rest. But who were the three men walking so fast toward the woods? I soon recognized the one who marched so proudly at their head: it was Raymond. He had brought two seconds, after telling me that he would come alone. But, no matter; doubtless he would be obliging enough to let me have one of them. I began to think that he had urged me not to bring one because he preferred to choose one for me.
As the three drew near, I recognized Raymond’s seconds: one was Vauvert the melomaniac, the other Monsieur le Baron de Witcheritche. Parbleu! thought I, there is sport ahead! I had a strong suspicion that my neighbor was preparing some trick he had conceived. What in the devil had induced him to choose such seconds? Friquet only was lacking; I should not have been surprised to find him standing guard a short distance away, ready to summon the police at the first signal from his uncle.
All three were drenched with perspiration; and yet, they had had time enough to make the trip. Apparently, they had postponed their decision long enough to be sure of warming themselves up on the road. Raymond was as red as a turkey cock, Vauvert pale as a bride, and the baron made such fiendish grimaces that I could not tell just the color of his face. They seemed more at ease when they saw that I was alone. I very much regretted that I had not brought a second; I had an idea that by doing so I should have disarranged Raymond’s plan.
They saluted me as soon as they caught sight of me; I returned their salutation, then went back into the woods I had just left.