The Vieille Coupe road, which Raoul de Pont Brillant would be obliged to
take on his return from the Chateau de Montel homeward, was a sort of
deep hollow way, with high banks covered with tall pine-trees, whose
heads formed such an impenetrable dome that the light was dim there even
at noontime, and at sunset it was so dark that two men who met there
would not be able to distinguish each other's features.
It was about six o'clock in the evening when Raoul de Pont Brillant
turned in this path, which seemed all the darker and more gloomy from
the fact that the highway he had just left was still lighted by the rays
reflected from the setting sun. He was alone, having sent his groom to
the chateau to inform the marquise of his change of plans.
He had proceeded only twenty yards when his vision became sufficiently
accustomed to the obscurity to enable him to distinguish a human being
standing motionless in the middle of the road, a short distance in front
of him.
"Hallo there, get to one side of the road or the other," he shouted.
"One word, M. le Marquis de Pont Brillant," responded a voice.
"What do you want?" asked Raoul, checking his horse and leaning over
upon his saddle, in a vain effort to distinguish the features of his
interlocutor. "Who are you? What do you want?"
"M. de Pont Brillant, did you receive a note this morning requesting
you to meet some one at Grand Sire's Rock?"
"No; for I left Pont Brillant at eight o'clock; but once more, what does
all this mean? Who the devil are you?"
"I am the writer of the letter sent you this morning."
"Ah, well, my friend, you can--"
"I am not your friend," interrupted the voice, "I am your enemy."
"What's that you say?" exclaimed Raoul, in surprise.
"I say that I am your enemy."
"Indeed!" retorted Raoul, in a half-amused, half-contemptuous tone, for
he was naturally very brave. "And what is your name, Mister Enemy?"
"My name is a matter of no consequence."
"Probably not, but why the devil do you stop me in the road at
nightfall, then? Ah, I remember you said you wrote to me."
"Yes."
"To tell me what?"
"That you were a coward if you--"
"Wretch!" exclaimed Raoul, starting his horse.
But Madame Bastien's son struck the horse in the head with the barrel of
his gun, forcing him to stop.
Raoul, a trifle startled at first, but really curious to know what the
stranger was coming at, calmed himself, and remarked, coldly:
"You did me the honour to write to me, you say?"
"Yes, to tell you that if you were not a coward, you would come to Grand
Sire's Rock to-day with your gun loaded like mine."
"And may I ask what we were to do with our guns?"
"We were to place ourselves ten paces apart, and then fire at each
other."
"And for what object may I ask?"
"So I would kill you or you would kill me."
"That would probably have been the case at that distance unless we were
very poor shots. But if one is so anxious to kill people, one should at
least tell me why."
"I want to kill you--because I hate you."
"Bah!"
"Do not sneer, M. de Pont Brillant, do not sneer."
"It is very difficult not to, but I'll try simply to oblige you. You
hate me, you say, and why?"
"The cause of my hatred concerns you as little as my name."
"Do you really think so?"
"I do."
"Well, you hate me, you say? What of it?"
"You must kill me or I shall kill you."
"That seems to be a settled thing with you. Where are we to fight?"
"Here, right here and now."
"But it isn't light enough to see."
"There is no need of its being light enough to see."
"But what are we to fight with?"
"With my gun."
"One gun?"
"Yes."
"That's a strange idea. How are we to do it?"
"Get down off your horse."
"And after that?"
"Pick up a handful of stones out of the road."
"Stones! So it is with stones that we are going to fight. It reminds me
of the famous battle between David and Goliath."
"I said that you were to pick up a handful of stones out of the road.
The darkness will prevent you from counting the stones, and you will
hold them in your closed hand. The one who guesses the number correctly
is to have the gun. He will place it against the other's breast and
fire. You see that no daylight is needed for that, M. de Pont
Brillant."
Frederick's manner was so resolute and his voice so incisive that the
young marquis, strange as the whole affair seemed to be, decided that
the speaker was really in earnest; then, suddenly remembering a
conversation that had taken place in his grandmother's drawing-room, he
burst into a hearty laugh and exclaimed:
"This is a good joke, upon my word. I understand everything now."
"Explain, M. de Pont Brillant."
"Last night at the chateau they were all telling stories about robbers
and midnight attacks, and they laughed about what I would do under such
circumstances. I talked a little boastfully of my courage, I suppose, so
they concocted this little scheme to test it, for they knew that I would
have to pass through this road in returning from Montel. You can tell
the persons that paid you to waylay me that I behaved myself very
creditably, for, upon my word as a gentleman, I took the thing seriously
at first. Good night, my worthy friend. Let me pass now, for it is
getting late, and I shall scarcely have time to reach Pont Brillant and
dress before dinner."
"This is no joke, M. de Pont Brillant, nor is it a test. You will not be
allowed to pass, and you are going to get down off your horse."
"I have had enough of this, I tell you," exclaimed Raoul, imperiously.
"You have earned your money. Now stand aside so I can pass."
"Dismount, M. de Pont Brillant, dismount, I say!"
"So much the worse for you, I'll ride right over you," cried Raoul, now
thoroughly enraged.
And he urged his horse on.
But Frederick seized the horse by the bridle, and with a violent jerk
forced the animal back upon its haunches.
"How dare you touch my horse, you scoundrel!" roared Raoul, raising his
whip and striking at random, but the blow fell only upon empty air.
"I consider the blow and the insulting epithet received, M. de Pont
Brillant, and now you will indeed be a coward if you don't dismount at
once and give me the satisfaction I demand."
As we have remarked before, Raoul was naturally brave; he was also as
experienced in the ways of the world as most young men of twenty-five,
so this time he answered very seriously and with remarkable good sense
and firmness:
"You have charged me with cowardice, and you have grossly insulted me
besides, so I tried to chastise you as one chastises a vagabond who
insults you on a street corner. Unfortunately the darkness rendered my
attempts futile, and you will be obliged to take the will for the deed.
If this doesn't satisfy you, you know who I am and you can come to the
Chateau de Pont Brillant to-morrow with two honourable men, if you know
any, which I doubt very much, judging from your actions. These gentlemen
can confer with the Vicomte de Marcilly and M. le Duc de Morville, my
seconds. Your seconds will tell my seconds your name and the cause of
the challenge you say you sent me this morning. These gentlemen will
decide between them what should be done. I am perfectly willing to abide
by their decision. That is the way such affairs are managed among
well-bred people. As you don't know, I will endeavour to teach you."
"And you refuse to fight me here and now?"
"I do, most decidedly."
"Take care. Either you or I will remain here!"
"Then it will be you, so good night," said Raoul.
As he spoke he plunged his spurs into his horse's sides. The animal made
a powerful spring forward, hurling Frederick to the ground.
When Madame Bastien's son, still stunned from his fall, staggered to his
feet, he heard the sound of Raoul's horse's hoofs already dying away in
the distance.
After a brief moment of stupor, Frederick uttered a cry of ferocious
joy, and, picking up his gun, climbed one of the almost perpendicular
banks on the side of the road with the aid of the pine saplings, and
plunged headlong into the forest.