Albert glanced at Sans-Cravate's weapons, and exclaimed:
"The devil! you have some very handsome pistols there, Sans-Cravate! It's a strange thing, but the more I examine them, the more certain I feel that I know them, that I have seen them somewhere."
"It's quite possible, monsieur, for I got them from an acquaintance of yours. It was Madame Baldimer who gave them to me."
"Baldimer!" ejaculated Albert. "Ah! yes, it was in her hands that I saw them. I can remember her saying to me laughingly, more than once: 'I mean to kill you with these pistols.'—It seems that she did not say it in jest. Clearly that woman has a bitter grudge against me.—Keep your own weapons, and I will keep mine, and let us take our places."
Albert walked away some fifteen paces, then asked:
"Is this satisfactory to you?"
"Yes, monsieur," Sans-Cravate replied, in a trembling voice.
"Pull yourself together, my poor Sans-Cravate; you seem agitated."
"It's true, monsieur, I am trembling; though you may be sure that it ain't with fear. I've never fought with anything but fists, you see. A man gets hurt that way, but not killed. At all events, I never tried to fight unfair. And when I think that with this little steel tube I may kill you—— Look you, monsieur—if you would—it rests with you——"
"Enough! enough, Sans-Cravate! let's not continue our conversation of this morning. You are the insulted party—fire first."