"Now, Claude, that is hardly fair. You know I am no duellist. I merely fight when I am compelled to, and never without just provocation. For instance, I had a delightful passage-at-arms last night, but it was no fault of mine. I was coming across the Sillon when a pretty girl came towards me with a leisurely step that seemed to say: "I have just been watching for you." She had a face like a flower, in the moonlight, and I could not resist snatching a kiss. That was all: but it acted like a match in a powder magazine. She started back with a cry. Evidently she had not been waiting for me; and before I could apologise, or take back the kiss, her lover swooped down upon me with drawn sword."
"I trust," exclaimed Claude, "he let a little of the impudence out of your gallant hide."
"Not a drop. I know the danger of kissing pretty girls in the public thoroughfare, and never do it without having my hand on my sword-hilt. He sprang forward, and I sprang back. The girl was between us, and in his haste to spit me, he pushed her roughly aside. The slight pause gave me time to draw my sword. He came at me, blind with fury, but I was on my guard. A pass or two showed me that I could disarm the fellow in five minutes. The fair one stood by, mutely wringing her hands, and as I wished to stand well in her opinion, I resolved to show her what I could do. I have been learning some cuts and thrusts and guards in Paris, and now was my chance to put them in practice. I bewildered the fellow, and when I thought her highness must have seen that I was the better man, and the more worthy, I let out with a rapidity rarely seen in musty old St Malo, and my opponent's sword went clanging against the wall.
"The man was no coward. No sooner was his sword out of his hand than he tore open his shirt, crying: 'Stab, villain, insulter of women!' But if I had attempted to take him at his word, and punch a hole or two in him, I could not have done so, for even while he spoke his beloved sprang between us, and hissing the epithet 'Coward!' in my face, flashed a dagger towards my breast. So quick was the stroke that I am afraid only a miracle could have prevented a woman from at last making a permanent impression on the heart of Charles de la Pommeraye, but I was once more to be saved from the base designs of the sex. My antagonist seized her hand from behind with a vice-like grip; and there we all stood—a most interesting group of enemies. He was the first to speak.
"'Put up your toy,' he said sternly to the girl, who, except for that one word 'Coward!' had never uttered a sound since the beginning of the struggle. 'Put up your toy; my life is in his hand. He has won it with the sword.'
"'Charles de la Pommeraye,' I answered, 'never strikes a weaponless man. Take up your sword, my friend, and let us give this fair Amazon a little more worthy entertainment.'
"But he would not even look at the weapon that had failed him.
"'Here it is,' said I, lifting it from the ground. 'But I am very much afraid we shall both have to sheathe our swords for to-night. Yours has lost a good foot. That wall has excellent granite in it. But meet me here to-morrow with a fresh weapon, and we can finish our little difference by the light of yonder moon.'
"'I am no duellist,' he cried, 'but I accept your offer. Your name is known to me, Charles de la Pommeraye, and I know you as a man of honour, despite your unknightly conduct towards a defenceless woman. See, she has fainted! Help me with her to my house, and to-morrow at this same hour I will meet you at this spot without seconds or witnesses. Lift her gently,' he added, as he raised the girl's shoulders. 'Put your arm about her on the left, and we can carry her between us.'
"But she was perfectly limp. We were really dragging her through the street, when I said: 'This will never do. Lead the way. I will follow you.' As I spoke, I raised her from the ground, and although he resisted my action, he soon saw that there was no help for it, and strode before me in silence. The moon shone full in the girl's face as she lay in my arms, pale and lifeless, and I saw the error I had committed. She was unmistakably of high-born lineage, and I would have given worlds to undo my rash action; though what she was doing at that place and at that hour is beyond me to conjecture. But we were at the door of my antagonist's house in a few moments, and he bade me hand over my burden. As he took her in his arms he exclaimed: 'To-morrow night, remember. The Sillon: and come without witnesses.'"