Part 15 (1/2)
The duke's countenance was expressive of the most careless indifference, as he felt perfect confidence in his own courage and skill. The baron was equally cool and collected, though it was his first duel, and a little nervousness or agitation would have been natural and excusable.
The Marquis de Bruyeres watched him with great satisfaction, auguring good things for their side from his quiet sang-froid. Vallombreuse immediately threw off his cloak and hat, and unfastened his pourpoint, in which he was closely imitated by de Sigognac. The marquis and the chevalier measured the swords of the combatants, which were found to be of equal length, and then each second placed his princ.i.p.al in position, and put his sword in his hand.
”Fall to, gentlemen, and fight like men of spirit, as you are,” said the marquis.
”A needless recommendation that,” chimed in the Chevalier de Vidalinc; ”they go at it like lions---we shall have a superb duel.”
The Duke of Vallombreuse, who, in his inmost heart, could not help despising de Sigognac more than a little, and had imagined that he should find in him but a weak antagonist, was astonished when he discovered the strength of the baron's sword, and could not deny to himself that he wielded a firm and supple blade, which baffled his own with the greatest ease--that he was, in fine, a ”foeman worthy of his steel.” He became more careful and attentive; then tried several feints, which were instantly detected. At the least opening he left, the point of de Sigognac's sword, rapid as lightning in its play, darted in upon him, necessitating the exercise of all his boasted skill to parry it.
He ventured an attack, which was so promptly met, and his weapon so cleverly struck aside, that he was left exposed to his adversary's thrust, and but for throwing himself back out of reach, by a sudden, violent movement, he must have received it full in his breast. From that instant all was changed for the young duke; he had believed that he would be able to direct the combat according to his own will and pleasure, but, instead of that, he was forced to make use of all his skill and address to defend himself. He had believed that after a few pa.s.ses he could wound de Sigognae, wherever he chose, by a thrust which, up to that time, he had always found successful; but, instead of that, he had hard work to avoid being wounded himself. Despite his efforts to remain calm and cool, he was rapidly growing angry; he felt himself becoming nervous and feverish, while the baron, perfectly at his ease and unmoved, seemed to take a certain pleasure in irritating him by the irreproachable excellence of his fence.
”Sha'n't we do something in this way too, while our friends are occupied?” said the chevalier to the marquis.
”It is very cold this morning. Suppose we fight a little also, if only to warm ourselves up, and set our blood in motion.”
”With all my heart,” the marquis replied; ”we could not do better.”
The chevalier was superior to the Marquis de Bruyeres in the n.o.ble art of fencing, and after a few pa.s.ses had sent the latter's sword flying out of his hand. As no enmity existed between them, they stopped there by mutual consent, and turned their attention again to de Sigognac and Vallombreuse. The duke, sore pressed by the close play of the baron, had fallen back several feet from his original position. He was becoming weary, and beginning to draw panting breaths. From time to time, as their swords clashed violently together, bluish sparks flew from them; but the defence was growing perceptibly weaker, and de Sigognac was steadily forcing the duke to give way before his attack. When he saw the state of affairs, the Chevalier de Vidalinc turned very pale, and began to feel really anxious for his friend, who was so evidently getting the worst of it.
”Why the devil doesn't he try that wonderful thrust he learned from Girolamo of Naples?” murmured he. ”This confounded Gascon cannot possibly know anything about that.”
As if inspired by the same thought, the young duke did, at that very moment, try to put it into execution; but de Sigognac, aware of what he was preparing to do, not only prevented but antic.i.p.ated him, and touched and wounded his adversary in the arm--his sword going clean through it.
The pain was so intense that the duke's fingers could no longer grasp his sword, and it fell to the ground. The baron, with the utmost courtesy, instantly desisted, although he was ent.i.tled by the rules of the code to follow up his blow with another--for the duel does not necessarily come to an end with the first blood drawn. He turned the point of his sword to the ground, put his left hand on his hip, and stood silently awaiting his antagonist's pleasure. But Vallombreuse could not hold the sword which his second had picked up and presented to him, after a nod of acquiescence from de Sigognac; and he turned away to signify that he had had enough. Whereupon, the marquis and the baron, after bowing politely to the others, set forth quietly to walk back to the town.
CHAPTER X. A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE
After the surgeon had bandaged his injured arm, and arranged a sling for it, the Duke of Vallombreuse was put carefully into a chair, which had been sent for in all haste, to be taken home. His wound was not in the least a dangerous one, though it would deprive him of the use of his right hand for some time to come, for the blade had gone quite through the forearm; but, most fortunately, without severing any important tendons or arteries. He suffered a great deal of pain from it of course, but still more from his wounded pride; and he felt furiously and unreasonably angry with everything and everybody about him. It seemed to be somewhat of a relief to him to swear savagely at his bearers, and call them all the hardest names he could think of, whenever he felt the slightest jar, as they carried him slowly towards home, though they were walking as steadily as men could do, and carefully avoiding every inequality in the road. When at last he reached his own house, he was not willing to be put to bed, as the surgeon advised, but lay down upon a lounge instead, where he was made as comfortable as was possible by his faithful Picard, who was in despair at seeing the young duke in such a condition; astonished as well, for nothing of the kind had ever happened before, in all the many duels he had fought; and the admiring valet had shared his master's belief that he was invincible. The Chevalier de Vidalinc sat in a low chair beside his friend, and gave him from time to time a spoonful of the tonic prescribed by the surgeon, but refrained from breaking the silence into which he had fallen.
Vallombreuse lay perfectly still for a while; but it was easy to see, in spite of his affected calmness, that his blood was boiling with suppressed rage. At last he could restrain himself no longer, and burst out violently: ”Oh! Vidalinc, this is too outrageously aggravating! to think that that contemptible, lean stork, who has flown forth from his ruined chateau so as not to die of starvation in it, should have dared to stick his long bill into me! I have encountered, and conquered, the best swordsmen in France, and never returned from the field before with so much as a scratch, or without leaving my adversary stretched lifeless on the ground, or wounded and bleeding in the arms of his friends.”
”But you must remember that the most favoured and the bravest of mortals have their unlucky days, Vallombreuse,” answered the chevalier sententiously, ”and Dame Fortune does not ALWAYS smile, even upon her prime favourites. Until now you have never had to complain of her frowns, for you have been her pampered darling all your life long.”
”Isn't it too disgraceful,” continued Vallombreuse, growing more and more heated, ”that this ridiculous buffoon--this grotesque country clown--who takes such abominable drubbings on the stage, and has never in his life known what it was to a.s.sociate with gentlemen, should have managed to get the best of the Duke of Vallombreuse, hitherto by common accord p.r.o.nounced invincible? He must be a professional prize-fighter, disguised as a strolling mountebank.”
”There can be no doubt about his real rank,” said Vidalinc, ”for the Marquis de Bruyeres guarantees it; but I must confess that his unequalled performance to-day filled me with astonishment; it was simply marvellous. Neither Girolamo nor Paraguante, those two world-renowned swordsmen, could have surpa.s.sed it. I watched him closely, and I tell you that even they could not have withstood him. It took all your remarkable skill--which has been so greatly enhanced by the Neapolitan's instructions--to avoid being mortally wounded; why your defeat was a victory in my eyes, in that it was not a more overwhelming one.”
”I don't know how I am to wait for this wound to heal,” the duke said, after a short pause, ”I am so impatient to provoke him again, and have the opportunity to revenge myself.”
”That would be a very hazardous proceeding, and one that I should strongly advise you not to attempt,” Vidalinc replied in an earnest tone. ”Your sword-arm will scarcely be as strong as before for a long time I fear, and that would seriously diminish your chances of success.
This Baron de Sigognac is a very formidable antagonist, and will be still more so, for you, now that he knows your tactics; and besides, the confidence in himself which his first victory naturally gives him would be another thing in his favour. Honour is satisfied, and the encounter was a serious one for you. Let the matter rest here, I beseech you!”
Vallombreuse could not help being secretly convinced of the justice of these remarks, but was not willing to avow it openly, even to his most intimate friend. He was a sufficiently accomplished swordsman himself to appreciate de Sigognac's wonderful prowess, and he knew that it far surpa.s.sed his own much vaunted skill, though it enraged him to have to recognise this humiliating fact. He was even obliged to acknowledge, in his inmost heart, that he owed his life to the generous forbearance of his hated enemy; who might have taken it just as well as not, but had spared him, and been content with giving him only a flesh wound, just severe enough to put him hors-de-combat, without doing him any serious injury. This magnanimous conduct, by which a less haughty nature would have been deeply touched, only served to irritate the young duke's pride, and increase his resentment. To think that he, the valiant and puissant Duke of Vallombreuse, had been conquered, humiliated, wounded!
the bare idea made him frantic. Although he said nothing further to his companion about his revenge, his mind was filled with fierce projects whereby to obtain it, and he swore to himself to be even yet with the author of his present mortification--if not in one way, then in another; for injuries there be that are far worse than mere physical wounds and hurts.
”I shall cut a sorry figure enough now in the eyes of the fair Isabelle,” said he at last, with a forced laugh, ”with my arm here run through and rendered useless by the sword of her devoted gallant. Cupid, weak and disabled, never did find much favour with the Graces, you know. But oh! how charming and adorable she seems to me, this sweet, disdainful Isabelle! I am actually almost grateful to her for resisting me so; for, if she had yielded, I should have been tired of her by this time, I fancy. Her nature certainly cannot be a base, ordinary one, or she would never have refused thus the advances of a wealthy and powerful n.o.bleman, who is ready to lavish upon her everything that heart could desire, and whose own personal attractions are not to be despised; if the universal verdict of the fair s.e.x of all ranks can be relied upon. There is a certain respect and esteem mingled with my pa.s.sionate admiration for her, that I have never felt before for any woman, and it is very sweet to me. But how in the world are we to get rid of this confounded young sprig of n.o.bility, her self-const.i.tuted champion? May the devil fly away with him!”
”It will not be an easy matter,” the chevalier replied, and especially now that he is upon his guard. ”But even if you did succeed in getting rid of him, Isabelle's love for him would still be in your way, and you ought to know, better than most men, how obstinate a woman can be in her devoted attachment to a man.”
”Oh! if I could only kill this miserable baron,” continued Vallombreuse, not at all impressed by the chevalier's last remark, ”I could soon win the favour of this virtuous young person, in spite of all her little prudish airs and graces. Nothing is so quickly forgotten as a defunct suitor.”
These were by no means the chevalier's sentiments, but he refrained from pursuing the subject then, wis.h.i.+ng to soothe, rather than irritate, his suffering friend.