"Am I a State prisoner then?" asked the Conte.
"Nothing of the sort," the masked Lodovico answered him, most politely. "You have given offence to a private citizen by taking upon yourself to have him carried about in a sedan-chair; to-morrow morning he wishes to fight a duel with you. If you kill him, you will find a pair of good horses, money, and relays prepared for you along the road to Genoa."
"What is the name of this fire-eater?" asked the Conte with irritation.
"He is called Bombace. You will have the choice of weapons and good seconds, thoroughly loyal, but it is essential that one of you die!"
"Why, it is murder, then!" said the Conte; growing frightened.
"Please God, no! It is simply a duel to the death with the young man whom you have had carried about the streets of Parma in the middle of the night, and whose honour would be tarnished if you remained alive. One or other of you is superfluous on this earth, therefore try to kill him; you shall have swords, pistols, sabres, all the weapons that can be procured at a few hours' notice, for we have to make haste; the police at Bologna are most diligent, as you perhaps know, and they must on no account interfere with this duel which is necessary to the honour of the young man whom you have made to look foolish."
"But if this young man is a Prince. . . ."
"He is a private citizen like yourself, and indeed a great deal less wealthy than you, but he wishes to fight to the death, and he will force you to fight, I warn you."
"Nothing in the world frightens me!" cried M——.
"That is just what your adversary most passionately desires," replied Lodovico. "To-morrow, at dawn, prepare to defend your life; it will be attacked by a man who has good reason to be extremely angry, and will not let you off lightly; I repeat that you will have the choice of weapons; and remember to make your will."