"Does she love you?"
Without replying to the question, the Marquis said,
"Signora Rovero, for her name is too deeply engraven on our hearts for it not to spring to our lips, is aware of my sentiments, of which I have already told her."
"And has accepted them?" said Monte-Leone, in yet greater trouble.
"No," said the Marquis, honorably; "but bade me hope that some day she would."
"Then," said the Count, with joy, "nothing is lost. Marquis, the past is yours, but the future is mine. Had I the mind and grace of a French nobleman, I would, perhaps, propose to you a contest of courtesy, and might rely on my hope, my love, my attention, to triumph. But the contest must be of a different kind; for I will expose myself to no risks." Lowering his voice, he continued: "Not one and the other can present his love to the Signorina Rovero, but one without the other. You or I alone; and, as I told you just now, there is a life too many."
"Very well, signor,—you wage your life against mine. I consent,—but must observe that this duel should, at least, accrue to the interest of one or the other of us; and yet I do not think that Signorina Rovero would touch a blood-stained hand."
"Signor," said Monte-Leone, "from the moment you accept my challenge, the mystery and secrecy with which it must be shrouded shall be my affair; and, if you please, I will tell you of my plans."
"Do so, signor," said Maulear, coldly.
"Let us leave this alley, and go towards that group of trees in that direction."