ANOTHER DUEL
Lecour's temper gave out at the irreconcilability of Louis during the
duel, and as soon as he reached the quarters he commenced to return
insult for insult. He exclaimed among his companions that _Léry_, as he
called him, and his family were petty skin-merchants of Quebec and kept
a shop in their house; that his father had acquired some contemptuous
favour with the British Governors on account of his having been the
first Canadian to turn traitor to the French King, and that _Léry's_
lies and slanders were just what was to be expected of a breed so base.
The sympathy of the company was with Germain. All took his part, and his
statements were reported to the officers of the Villeroy. The latter
insisted on de Léry's vindicating his and their honour by another
challenge, and compelled him to write it the same day; and Germain
received it during the evening. The second who forwarded it politely
requested that the time to be named be soon, as the Villeroys desired to
return without delay to Châlons.
"Let it be immediately," answered Lecour. "There is a full moon and no
need to wait another hour."
So the adversaries, with seconds and surgeon, rode out to an open spot
in the same wood as before, where the two stripped off their coats and
waistcoats, tucked up their laces, were handed their rapiers, and
commenced.
From the first it was evidently to be a deadly fight.
Conscious of this, however, they were both on the watch, and it was some
minutes before more than a pass or two was made, and these without
result. The moonlight, too, though the seconds had placed them as fairly
as possible, was at best not absolutely clear and enforced prudence, for
even the brightest moonlight is deceptive.
At last de Léry, with a clever movement, got in a savage thrust, from
which Lecour only saved himself by extreme alertness with a little graze
of the neck. De Léry was the better trained swordsman of the two, and it
was evident that his loss in the previous duel was due to his furious
recklessness on that occasion. Now that the blood of both was up de Léry
had again the superiority.
No sooner had the seconds permitted the fight to continue, after the
scratch to Germain, than the latter, stung by rage, instantly thrust and
hissed--
"Son of a traitor!"
The wild passion which these words aroused in de Léry saved Lecour. As
it was he was nearly disarmed, and was subjected for several minutes to
a series of onslaughts, which called on all his activity and the whole
strength of his wrist.
"Hound! hog! soul of muck! _canaille!_ adventurer! cheat!"
Such epithets came thick and fast with the strokes of de Léry, and were
answered by "Slanderer! reptile! traitor! liar!" from the set lips of
Lecour.
At last, with a fiery spring, de Léry, having lost all self-control,
threw himself upon his enemy, and received a terrible slash up the
sword-arm, which finished the battle and threw him sidelong on the
ground, while bright red blood spouted all over his breast, and the
surgeon and seconds ran to attend to him. He lost consciousness and fell
back, limp and ghastly.
No sooner had he fallen than a figure in black sprang out of the wood,
brandishing his sword, and shouting--
"Well done, our champion! I will finish your work"; and rushing at the
prostrate man, over whom the seconds were bending, he pushed them aside,
and was on the point of driving the weapon into his body.
Lecour threw himself forward and struck up the steel with his own.
"Coward!" he shouted, preparing for further defence of his late
antagonist, while the astonishment of Grancey and his fellow-second at
the apparition held them momentarily helpless.
"I am no coward, but the Instrument of Vengeance. His blood has slain
mine. The scales of heaven are nice to a hair. Let me kill him!" and the
stranger's sword glittered again in a sudden movement. But this time
Grancey seized him, and his colleague assisted in overcoming the man's
struggles.
"It is a madman," said the surgeon, his hands occupied with his
bandages; "keep him safe till I can finish this work."
"A madman, yes!" shouted Philibert; "and who made me mad? It was one of
this man's race of murderers and traitors. Justice will only sleep when
he too dies by the sword, like my father, whom they slew. Let me strike!
let me kill him! or, if you will not let me kill him, I will depart, for
the hour of Justice it seems is not yet."
"Depart quickly then," sternly said the surgeon, taking advantage of the
turn in his mood, and at the words the seconds released the maniac.
Philibert ran again into the woods and disappeared.
"There is too much loss of blood--too much," the surgeon remarked
gravely.
Lecour, wondering and agitated, divined, while the others were occupied,
the identity of the visitant.