“My dear Monsieur de Belleville, a duel is never postponed so long as that. It is already three o’clock; it is too late for a meeting to-day. Fix it for to-morrow morning—at eight o’clock. We can meet in the little wood on your left as you go down toward Raincy—just behind the old keeper’s house.”
“Very good; and what weapons do you propose to fight with? You are the insulted party, and you have the right to choose.”
“Yes, I know that well enough! I have the choice of weapons, and that is what embarrasses me; that is the difficulty.”
“Which are you strongest with?”
“I am strong at all; that is to say, I can defend myself. Ah! if we could fight with the quarter-staff—that’s the thing I can handle!”
“Well, choose the quarter-staff,” said Chamoureau; “it isn’t so dangerous.”
“It isn’t accepted in fashionable society! I am reflecting; as the insulted party, I shall fire first.”
“I know nothing about it.”
“Yes, yes! hum! hum! you will fire first.”
“Then I choose pistols.”