Part 27 (1/2)
Ten minutes afterwards the letter was despatched. I then sent for a cabriolet and we drove to Vincennes.
When we reached the cross-paths Lucien said, ”We are not far off now, I think.”
”No; twenty paces further on we shall be at the spot where we entered the forest.”
”Here we are,” said the young man, as he stopped the carriage.
It was, indeed, the very spot!
Lucien entered the wood without the least hesitation, and as if he had known the place for years. He walked straight to the dell, and when there turned to the eastward, and then advancing he stopped at the place where his brother had fallen: stooping down he perceived the gra.s.s wore the red tinge of blood.
”This is the place,” he said.
Then he lightly kissed the spot where his brother had lain.
Rising with flas.h.i.+ng eyes he paced the dell to the spot whence Chateau Renaud had fired.
”This is where he stood,” he said, stamping his foot, ”and here he shall lie to-morrow.”
”How!” I exclaimed. ”To-morrow!”
”Yes, unless he is a coward. For to-morrow he shall give me my revenge.”
”But, my dear Lucien,” I said, ”the custom in France is, as you are aware, that a duel cannot take place without a certain reason. Chateau Renaud called out your brother who had provoked him, but he has had nothing to do with you.”
”Ah, really! So Chateau Renaud had the right to quarrel with my brother because he offered his arm to a woman whom Chateau Renaud had scandalously deceived, and according to you he had the right to challenge my brother. M. de Chateau Renaud killed my brother, who had never handled a pistol: he shot him with the same sense of security that a man would shoot a hare; and yet you say I have no right to challenge Chateau Renaud. Nonsense!”
I bowed without speaking.
”Besides,” he continued, ”you have nothing to do with it. You may be quite easy. I wrote to Giordano this morning, and when we return to Paris all will have been arranged. Do you think that M. de Chateau Renaud will refuse?”
”M. de Chateau Renaud has unfortunately a reputation for courage which may serve to remove any doubt you may entertain on that score.”
”All the better,” said Lucien. ”Let us go to breakfast.”
We returned to the road, and entering the cabriolet, I told the man to drive to the Rue Rivoli.
”No,” said Lucien, ”you shall breakfast with me. Coachman, the _Cafe de Paris;_ is not that the place where my brother usually dined?”
”I believe so,” I replied.
”Well, that is where I requested Giordano to meet us.”
”To the Cafe de Paris, then.”
In half an hour we were set down at the restaurant.
CHAPTER XX.