Part 25 (1/2)

'_Par Dieu!_ I never thought of that,' broke in Fitzgerald.

'Then there was something occurred at court, wasn't there?'

'Oh, a mere trifle. He could not dance the second figure in the minuet with the Princesse de Cleves, and the Queen called me to take his place.'

'Worse than the affair of the horse, far worse,' muttered Dillon; 'Maurepas cannot forgive you either.'

'I shall a.s.suredly not ask him, sir,' was the prompt rejoinder.

'And then you laughed at his Italian, didn't you? The ”Nonce” said that you caught him up in a line he had misquoted.'

'He asked me himself if he were right, and I told him he was not; but I never laughed at his mistake.'

'They said you did, and that the Princesse de Lamballe made you repeat the story. No matter, it was still another item in the score he owes you.'

'I am led by these remarks of yours to suppose that you have latterly bestowed some interest in what has befallen me, Count: am I justified in this belief?'

'You have guessed aright, Fitzgerald. Thirty-eight years and seven months ago I entered this service, knowing less of the world than you do now. So little aware was I what was meant by a provocation, that I attributed to my own deficiency in the language and my ignorance of life what were intended as direct insults. They read me differently, and went so far as to deliberate whether I ought not to be called on to leave the corps. This at last aroused my indolence. I fought four of them one morning, and three the next--two fell fatally wounded. I never got but this--and he showed a deep scar on the wrist of his sword-arm. 'From that time I have had no trouble.'

'And this is an ordeal I must pa.s.s also, said Gerald calmly.

'I scarcely know how it is to be avoided, nor yet complied with. The king has declared so positively against duelling, that he who sends a challenge must consent to forgo his career in the service.'

'But, surely, not he who only accepts a provocation?'

'That is a difficulty none seems to have answered. Many think that all will be treated alike--the challenger and the challenged, and even the seconds. My own opinion is different.'

'It is not impossible, then, that M. de Maurepas desired to push me to demand satisfaction,' said Gerald slowly, for the light was beginning to break upon his mind.

Dillon nodded in silence.

'And _you_ saw this, Count?'

Another nod was the reply.

'And, doubtless, the rest also?'

'Doubtless!' said Dillon slowly.

Fitzgerald leaned his head on his hand, and sat in deep reflection for some time.

'This is a puzzle,' said he at last. 'I must be frank with you, Count Dillon. Madame de Bauffremont cautioned me, on my entrance into the corps, against whatever might involve me in any quarrel. There are circ.u.mstances, family circ.u.mstances, which might provoke publicity, and be painful--so, at least, she said--to others, whose fame and happiness should be dearer to me than my own. Now, I know nothing of these. I only know that there are no ties nor obligations which impose the necessity of bearing insult. If you tell me, then, that Maurepas seeks a quarrel with me, that he has been carrying a grudge against me for weeks back, I will ask of you--and, as my countryman, you 'll not refuse me--to call on him for satisfaction.'

'It can't be helped,' said Dillon, speaking to himself.

'Why should it be helped?' rejoined Gerald, overhearing him.

'And then, Maurepas is the very man to do it,' muttered the Count again.

Then lifting his head suddenly, he said: 'The Marquise de Bauffremont is at Paris, I believe. I 'll set off there to-night; meanwhile do you remain where you are. Promise me this; for it is above all essential that you should take no step till I return.'

CHAPTER II. A NIGHT ON DUTY