"Do you doubt my courage, Monsieur?" asked the vicomte, his eyes cold

and brilliant with points of light.

"But September?"

"Come, Monsieur; you are playing the boy. You will admit that I

possess some courage. 'Twould be a fool's pastime to measure swords

when neither of us is certain that to-morrow will see our heads safe

upon our shoulders. I am not giving you a challenge. I am simply

warning you."

"Warning? You are kind. However, one would think that you are afraid

to die."

"I am. There is always something which makes life worth the living.

But it is not the fear of dying by the sword. My courage has never

been questioned. Neither has yours. But there is some doubt as

regards your temper and reason ability. Brave? To be sure you are.

At this very moment you would draw against one of the best blades in

France were I to permit you. But when it comes man to man, Monsieur,

you have to stand on your toes to look into my eyes. My arm is three

inches longer than yours; my weight is greater. I have three

considerable advantages over you. I simply do not desire your life; it

is necessary neither to my honor nor to my happiness."

"To desire and to accomplish are two different things, Monsieur."

"Not to me, Monsieur," grimly. "When my desire attacks an obstacle it

must give way or result in my death. I have had many desires and many

obstacles, and I am still living."

"But you may be killed abroad. That would disappoint me terribly."

"Monsieur de Saumaise, I have seen for some months that you have been

nourishing a secret antipathy to me. Be frank enough to explain why

our admiration is not mutual." The vicomte seated himself on a bench,

and threw his scabbard across his knees.

"Since you have put the question frankly I will answer frankly. For

some time I have distrusted you. What was to be your gain in joining

the conspiracy?"

"And yours?" quietly. "I think we both overlooked that part of the

contract. Proceed."

"Well, I distrust you at this moment, for I know not what your purpose

is to speak of affronts and refuse to let me give satisfaction. I

distrust and dislike you for the manner in which you approached the

Chevalier tonight. There was in your words a biting sarcasm and

contempt which, he in his trouble did not grasp. And let me tell you,

Monsieur, if you ever dare mention publicly the Chevalier's misfortune,

I shall not wait for you to draw your sword."

The vicomte swung about his scabbard and began lightly to tap the floor

with it. Here and there a cinder rose in dust. The vicomte's face was

grave and thoughtful. "You have rendered my simple words into a Greek

chorus. That is like you poets; you are super-sensitive; you

misconstrue commonplaces; you magnify the simple. I am truly sorry for

the Chevalier. Now there's a man. He is superb with the rapier, light

and quick as a cat; a daredevil, who had not his match in Paris. Free

with his money, a famous drinker, and never an enemy. Yes, I will

apologize for my bad taste in approaching him to-night. I should have

waited till morning."




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