This pride in him passed all bounds, and touched sometimes on the aberrations of a Schahabaham. One day, one of his aides-de-camp came to him very much excited, and throwing himself at his feet:
"Sire!" cried he, "I beg your majesty to grant me a favor."
"Speak."
"Permit me to fight a duel."
"Never!" replied the emperor.
Nicholas had a horror of duels. In his eyes, all blood was criminally shed in Russia that was not for the country or in his service, and he punished the guilty in this respect most severely.
"Sire, I am dishonored. It is necessary for me to fight."
"What do you say?"
"I have been struck in the face."
"Ah!" said the emperor, contracting his brows. "But no, I cannot permit a duel. You must come with me."