"You divine the motive of my visit, monsieur, I fancy?"

"What! do I divine it? Why, I have been waiting for you, with some impatience. But I said to myself: 'That gentleman will not come very early, because, on the day after his wedding---- ' Ha! ha! I don't think I need say any more."

"It has occurred to me, monsieur, that our duel might as well take place without witnesses. The subject of our dispute is such a delicate one!

There are some things which one doesn't like to make a noise about; for the world, which is unkind, as a general rule, sometimes makes a mountain out of what was----"

"Only a mouse--_parturiens montes._ I am entirely of your opinion.--Ah!

I have my collar."

"Then, monsieur, you consent to fight with no other witness than my servant?"

"Very gladly; I have already fought that way more than once."

"Thinking that you might have no weapons, monsieur, I brought two swords and a pair of pistols with me."

"You did very well; for, as you foresaw, I am without weapons at this moment. Ah! I used to have some beautiful ones in the old days! My pistols were made by Devisme; I could bring down a fly at fifty yards; but I had to let them go. What would you have? _Deus dederat, Deus abstulit._--I will just put on my coat, and I am at your service."

"This is a most extraordinary individual," said Auguste Monleard to himself as he listened.

The Latin with which Cherami sprinkled his discourse, and his air of good-breeding, had modified the opinion he had formed of him; and he was not sorry to learn that he was not about to fight with a man devoid of breeding and education.

At last, Arthur came out from behind his screen, and saluted his adversary with all the ease of a man of the world, saying:

"Now I am at your service."

"Very good, monsieur. Doubtless you are well acquainted with this quarter, this neighborhood. It is entirely unfamiliar to me. Is there any spot hereabout where we can fight comfortably--without having to travel a couple of leagues to Vincennes or the Bois de Boulogne?"

"Wait a moment, while I think. We could go behind the b.u.t.tes Saint-Chaumont; there are some quarries there, where no one would see us. But it's rather hard to get there in a carriage; and then, too, the ground's rather uneven, and sometimes there are some low-lived rascals prowling about. But, pardieu! we have just what we want, close at hand.

In the next street there's a large vacant lot, on which they're going to build, but the building isn't begun yet. No one ever pa.s.ses through that street; we shall be as retired as we should be in our own house."

"But can we get into the lot?"

"Yes, indeed. On the street there's nothing but a board fence, and there's a gate in it. If there's anyone there, we'll say we are architects; that will make it all right."

"And it's not far from here?"

"We shall be there in five minutes."

"In that case, monsieur, let us go. We will let my cabriolet follow us."

"That's right; and as we must avoid making a noise and attracting attention, we will fight with swords, if you choose."

"With pleasure, monsieur."

Monleard and Cherami went down the stairs together. Madame Louchard, who was standing at the hall-door, was very much puzzled when she saw her tenant leave the house with the fashionably dressed owner of the cabriolet; but she dared not ask him a question. Instead of turning toward the main street of Belleville, the two men took a street which ran behind the theatre of that suburb.

Walking side by side with the individual with whom he was to fight, Monleard, more and more amazed by his adversary's courteous manners and by his use of language which denoted familiarity with good society, said to him after a while:

"We are going to fight a duel, monsieur; that is a settled thing, which neither you nor I, I am sure, have any intention of avoiding."

"I agree with you, monsieur."

"But, before the duel takes place, will you not do me the favor to tell me where you knew the lady whom I have married, and how long you have known her?"

"It will give me very great pleasure to answer you. I have not the slightest acquaintance with your wife, and I never saw her until yesterday. First, when she alighted from her carriage at Deffieux's restaurant; and again, when you were taking her away last night, and I met you."

"But, in that case, monsieur, how do you explain the words you uttered: 'There's the faithless f.a.n.n.y'? Was it a bet? Was it an insult?--And, again, how did you know my wife's Christian name, since you did not know her?"

"Mon Dieu! my dear monsieur, I can explain it all to you in a few words, and you will say that events succeeded one another naturally enough.

When your young wife alighted from her carriage, a young man--a very pretty fellow, on my word! but a perfect stranger to me--was standing near me, in front of the restaurant. The poor fellow really made my heart ache: he was in the depths of despair, he tore his hair--no, he didn't go so far as that; but, what was worse, he insisted on accosting the bride and making a scene. I remonstrated with him, I prevented his doing it, and made him see that it would be in the worst possible taste to cause such a scandal in the street."

"I thank you, monsieur. But the young man's name--do you know it?"

"He told me while we were dining; for we dined together, and he told me the whole story of his love affair. I must hasten to add that there was nothing in it which casts the slightest reflection on madame's honor.

But she allowed that young man to pay court to her, she flattered him with the hope that she would marry him some day. But when you appeared, the scales were very soon turned in your favor, and my poor lover was given the mitten."

"Then the man who told you all this must have been Monsieur Gustave Darlemont?"

"The very same; those are his names."

"Yes, I remember meeting him now and then at Monsieur Gerbault's, in the first days of my intimacy with that family. You will agree, monsieur,--for you seem well acquainted with society and its customs,--that it is indiscreet, to say no more, for a young man who has been kindly received by a respectable family, to go about telling of his love affairs, his disappointed hopes, in short, all his affairs, to someone whom he doesn't know, and whom he meets by chance in the street."

"It was, perhaps, a little foolish, I admit; but we must excuse some foolish performances in a lover. Poor Gustave adored your wife--he adores her still. She flirted a bit with him."

"Monsieur!"

"Oh! bless my soul, all the women do it; I know that well enough; maids, wives, and widows--before, during, and after--they always do it. It's their original sin. Eve set the example by flirting with the serpent. To try to cure them of that failing would be to attempt the impossible: women are made that way. _Quid levius pluma? pulvis! Quid pulvere?

ventus! Quid vento? mulier! Quid muliere? nihil!_"

"But, monsieur, how did it happen that it was you, and not this Monsieur Gustave, who indulged in that insulting exclamation?"

"For a very simple reason: Gustave wasn't there. After dining with me, at the same restaurant where you had your wedding banquet, for he was absolutely determined to speak to your wife, to bid her a last farewell----"

"The impertinent wretch! if he had dared!"

"Oh! mon Dieu! you wouldn't have known anything about it. The women do so many things that we don't know! But a certain uncle made his appearance--a gentleman who doesn't joke, and who hasn't an amiable manner every day. He dragged his nephew away, deaf to his prayers and lamentations--and poor Gustave had to go, without a sight of his faithless f.a.n.n.y.--I beg your pardon, but that's the expression he always used in speaking of madame your wife; and that is why that exclamation escaped me last night, when I saw her on your arm. Now you know the whole story. Faith! here we are; see, this is the board fence about the vacant lot. We can go in here; there's a solution of continuity. Not so much as a cat, inside or out; this is delightful. You can get the swords from your servant."

Monleard, having taken the swords from his groom, ordered him to stay by the cabriolet; then he and Cherami entered the vacant lot, which had been made ready for building, but as yet contained nothing but stone.

They soon reached a spot where there was nothing to embarra.s.s them; there they removed their coats and stood at guard. By the way in which Cherami stood, the young dandy saw at once that he had to do with an expert fencer; and, as he was himself well skilled in the use of the sword, he was not sorry to meet an adversary worthy of his steel.

But after one or two pa.s.ses, one or two deftly parried attacks, Monleard realized that he had before him an antagonist of the first order; and that he must needs exert his utmost talent and strength to gain the advantage. He had expected to have done with his opponent in a few thrusts; his self-esteem was touched by the necessity of defending himself. He attacked with an impetuosity which sometimes made him forget to be prudent; and Cherami, who fought as coolly as if he were playing shuttlec.o.c.k, said to him from time to time:

"Take care, you are making mistakes, you'll run on my sword, you strike down too much! I give you warning; it won't be my fault. Ah! what did I tell you?"

Monleard, attacking awkwardly, had received a thrust in the arm, and the wound was so painful that he had to drop his sword.

"Enough, I am beaten!" said the young man, struggling to conceal his suffering. "But you are a skilful fencer, monsieur."

"Yes, I am somewhat expert with the foils. Wait a moment; let me take your handkerchief and bind up the wound, to stop the blood. Then we'll make a sling with your black silk cravat."