“‘But monsieur, that is unusual, barbarous!’ said the little man.
“‘Indeed!’ said I. ‘Then suppose we say revolvers at twelve paces or less. I have no prejudices.’ It seems that the baron had, for he said my new proposition was also unheard of, uncivilized.
“Upon this I stood up and said: ‘Gentlemen, you have insisted on manufacturing for me a quarrel with a man I never saw, and have suggested—indeed, said—that I, a soldier, am afraid and have lied to you. I accepted the situation thus forced on me, and in place of the wretched little knitting-needles with which you fight child duels in France, I propose to take it seriously.’
“I saw the little man—the colonel—was beginning to fidget. As I stopped he said, ‘Pardon me; I have not the honor fully to comprehend.’
“‘Indeed?’ said I. ‘So far I have hesitated to ascribe to gentlemen, to a soldier, any motive for your difficulty in accepting weapons which involve peril, and I thought that I had at last done so. I do not see how I can make myself more clear.’
“‘Sir,’ said my little man, ‘do I understand—’
“I was at the end of the sweetest temper west of the Mississippi. I broke into English and said: ‘You may understand what you damn please.’
“You see, Mr. Greville, it was getting to be fatiguing—these two improbable Frenchmen. I suppose the small man took my English as some recondite insult, for he drew himself up, clicked his heels together, and said, ‘I shall have the honor to send to monsieur those who will ask him, for me,—for me, personally,—to translate his words, and, I trust, to withdraw the offensive statement which, no doubt, they are meant to convey.’
“I replied that I had no more to say, except that I should instruct my friends to abide by the weapons I had mentioned. On this he lost his temper and exclaimed that it was murder. I said that was my desire; that they were hard to please; and that bowie-knives exhausted the list of weapons I should accept.