"The prince," observed the baron, "has two blades of the finest Spanish steel; they are beautifully watered, and it is a pleasure to look at them. They have never yet been used: Monsieur," added he, addressing the count, "shall have his choice." All this was said with the utmost nonchalance, as though he had been only treating of a trial of skill, and not a duel à l'outrance.
I had never taken a fencing-lesson since I was at school, and then only for a few months of old Angelo. The prince I knew to be almost as dexterous in the art as a maître d'armes. The first qualification for an accomplished gambler is to be a duellist; foils were at that moment lying in a corner of the room, and he had probably been practising the very day before; indeed it was almost the only exercise he took at any time.
To have made, however, my want of skill a plea for the adoption of pistols, might, I knew, be answered by the baron's professing the prince to be the worst of shots; besides its being a deviation from the established rule in such cases for me to have a voice.
Strange to say, I felt little uneasiness on the subject: I had a quick eye, great activity, and superior physical strength; and I had heard that the most expert fencer is often at a loss to parry the determined assault of an aggressor, even though he should hardly know the use of his weapon. A sense, too, of my wrongs, and a desire of revenge, added to that moral courage in which I was never deficient, rendered me bold and confident.
It was now broad daylight. The fiacre rattled up to the door, and the count and I, got into it; the prince following in his cabriolet, accompanied by A——. We drove through the Champs Elyseés, passed the Port Maillot, and, without meeting a single carriage, arrived at our destination. If there were ever a spot where a lover of nature might die almost without regret, it is this favourite resort of the beau monde of Paris. Avenues ankle-deep in sand, cut into straight lines; allées without verdure, that lead to nothing; a wood without trees. Such is the Bois de Boulogne.
The coachman, who had a perfect knowledge of the localities, and the object of our morning ride, pulled up at a spot where four roads met; and, having alighted, we followed an ill-defined path for a few hundred yards, till we came to an opening in the brushwood that was scarcely above our heads. It had served for a recent encounter, for I perceived the prince step on one side to avoid a stain of blood on one of the tufts of grass that here and there rose rankly among the sand. He appeared not to notice it, and continued to talk on indifferent subjects to his companion.
Having received our swords, all new, and bright, and glittering, as the baron promised they should be, and taken up our ground, without waiting to cross blades, I precipitated myself on my adversary, and endeavoured to beat down his guard: so impetuous was my onset, that he retreated, or, rather, I drove him before me for several yards. Those who have not experienced it, may conceive what a strange grating sensation the meeting of two pieces of steel produces; but they cannot be aware how it quickens the pulse, and that there is in every electric shock, such fierce rage, and hatred, and revenge, as burnt within me then. Still, however, the prince parried my thrusts, and kept me at arm's length. All I now remember is, that I made a last desperate lunge—that I almost lost my balance—that I felt the point of my adversary's sword enter my side, and then a film came over my eyes. When I awoke from this trance, I found myself in a crowded hospital, with a Sœur de Charité leaning over me.
LES POISSONS D'AVRIL.
REDDY O'DRYSCULL, SCHOOLMASTER, ETC., TO THE EDITOR.