“Yes, madame, Comte Adhémar de Hautmont.”
“Ah! that is the name! the very name!”
“Did you know him, madame?”
“Yes—that is to say, not I—But finish, monsieur! for heaven’s sake, finish your story!”
“Well! on entering my mistress’s room, I found her alone with the count, and apparently in the utmost confusion. Thereupon, blinded by jealousy, I overwhelmed her with reproaches. And she, instead of telling me that the man who was then with her was not her lover, had the perfidy to confirm my suspicions by some words which seemed to escape her involuntarily. I instantly insulted the count and demanded satisfaction for his conduct. He, utterly amazed by what he had seen and heard, could not comprehend my jealousy, and tried to make me understand that I was wrong to think him my rival. But I could no longer restrain my fury, jealousy drove me mad. I thought that the count declined to fight with me, and, to force him to do it, I raised my hand against him.
“Adhémar’s temperament was as fiery as mine. I had offered him an insult which could only be washed out in blood; and after that, it was on his own account, to avenge his outraged honor, that he fought.
“I succeeded in obtaining pistols, and we both went out from that house to which that woman had lured the count, solely in the hope—too fully realized—that if I should surprise her, he would serve to lead my jealousy astray.—Adhémar and I walked a long distance through the fields. It was mid-day, and we constantly met villagers and farm-hands at work in the fields, in whose presence we could not fight. At last we reached the sunken road that leads from the road to Noisy-le-Grand. It was a deserted spot, no one could see us in that ravine, and there our duel took place.
“Adhémar was the insulted party; he fired first, but did not hit me; whereas I—poor, poor fellow! shot through the breast, he had barely time to say:
“‘I was not your rival; I have never made love to that woman in whose house you found me. I love devotedly a young girl who has made me a father. She is poor; my relations are opposed to the connection; but before long I should have been able to marry my love. What will become of my poor little girl and her mother without me?—Go to them and take care of them.’
“‘Their name, their address?’ I cried; ‘on my honor I swear to take your place with them.’