Vétérin shrugged his shoulders as he answered, "In that case I should ask you to fight with me."
"Ah! you would murder me!" said Simon, recoiling.
"Pardon, I have two pistols here. It would be fair fighting."
"It is horrible, monstrous! I will not listen to you."
"Almost as terrible as wedding a maid whose soul has been given to another; almost as monstrous as coming eternally between two hearts that beat for each other," was the stern response.
"I tell you that I will not hear of it," repeated Mansart, frantically.
"Then you will be a great fool. I wish I stood in your shoes. The chances of life are twelve; of death, one. And even then it will be fair fighting—though, by my sword, I shall do my best to kill you. Consider. But a moment separates you from your wealth. Come, it might have been over and forgotten by now."
"Monsieur, if you are a gentleman, if you entertain toward me no sinister intent, you will leave my house at once."
"Very well, I will go," said Vétérin, and he moved toward the door. He opened it and was about to pass out when the querulous voice of Simon called to him again.
"Well?"