Volume Ii Part 65 (1/2)
”He cheated you, my dear boy; I would stake my head on it!”
”Oh! messieurs!” cried Chamoureau, ”can it be that you suspect that worthy Bavarian of being a Greek?”
”I suspect it because I am certain that that unprepossessing person, who claims to be a German baron and can't speak German, is simply your wife's brother!”
”What! the brother of--then my wife is a baroness----”
”No more than he's a baron; he gave himself away several times when he had drunk too much. However, I hope to see him again, and to find out just what to think. Where is he now?”
”Gone to Paris, on urgent business, so my wife said.”
”Messieurs,” interposed Edmond, ”it seems to me that you are forgetting what brings you together; be good enough to complete your arrangements for the duel.”
”Well, messieurs, what do you propose? we are waiting to hear from you.”
”To-morrow morning, at eight o'clock----”
”Why not finish it up to-day?”
”Presumably because that would not suit Monsieur Luminot. If you interrupt us so soon--hum! hum!--we shall never finish.”
”True; go on, monsieur.”
”To-morrow morning, at eight o'clock, in the little wood behind what used to be the keeper's house, as you go down the hill toward Raincy.”
”Very good,” said Paul, ”I know the place.”
”Monsieur Luminot chooses pistols.”
”Agreed.”
”And he will fire first.”
”That may be open to discussion,” said Freluchon; ”for your man began the attack by his slurring remarks.”
”No, no discussion!” exclaimed Edmond; ”let him fire first--I agree.”
”Then, messieurs, as everything is arranged,--hum! hum!--we have only to salute you.”
”I beg pardon, monsieur,” said Paul, addressing himself to Monsieur Remplume, who strove to maintain a surly expression; ”if your opinion concerning the ladies insulted by Monsieur Luminot agrees with his, you too will have to deal with us; for you understand, messieurs, that _no one_ may hereafter repeat those slanders, under pain of being chastised by us!”
The little, lame man turned green; Chamoureau sank upon a chair and put his handkerchief to his eyes, stammering:
”How can you believe me capable of speaking unkindly of those ladies, for whom I bought Monsieur Courtivaux's house! I carry their images in my heart. I give no thought now to anything except the age of trees----”
”Enough! enough! we believe you!” said Freluchon.
Monsieur Remplume made the same protestations as Chamoureau.
”That is all very well, messieurs,” said Paul; ”but you will simply have the kindness to repeat this profession of faith in public, when we request you to do so.”