"I will neither marry your sister, nor will I fight with you."
"We shall see," said Miguel, smiling sarcastically.
"There will be no question about it."
"We will speak about the second afterward. As to the first: When I heard
of my sister's abduction, I suspected that you had not undertaken it for
any decent motive. Still I could not persuade myself that you would
carry out your treachery to the point of being willing to make a lady
who is of your own blood your mistress."
Julia uttered a groan. Miguel looked at her with compassionate eyes, and
said:--
"Forgive me, Julia; I had forgotten that you were here."
"In declining to marry your sister," replied Don Alfonso, "I am not
influenced by anything that could be construed in the least to her
discredit. I grant that she is an excellent girl. The only thing is,
that it never entered into my calculations to marry either her or any
one else. This decision, which I made long ago, neither you nor any one
else can alter."
"Is this your ultimatum in regard to the first part of my question?"
"It is."
"Very good; now we come to the second. I suppose that you will not
refuse to give me reparation by means of arms...."
"I do refuse. I have injured you deeply; it would be a fine thing if I
killed you besides.... And to allow you to kill me--frankly, I have just
as little notion."
"There is one infallible means of making you fight: I will slap your
face in public."
"I don't doubt that you would do so. I regard you as a man of courage;
you would do it even though you thereby signed your own death-warrant.
Whatever weapons we should choose, you cannot be ignorant that I have
ninety chances to ten of killing or wounding you...."
Miguel made a scornful gesture.
"I know that this does not terrify you; but let us reason about it: What
advantage would it give you to die? Would it wipe out your sister's
dishonor? It would not only not wipe it out, but it would deprive her of
the only support that she has in the world. Then let us suppose--and it
is much to suppose--that you killed me. Your sole advantage would be in
publishing the disgrace which now with a little caution can remain
unknown."
Don Alfonso and Miguel both spoke in low tones, so as not to be heard
from the outside; but the gestures and accent of each, and especially of
the latter, were so energetic and excited, that they very well took the
place of loud words. Julia sat on the sofa, motionless, and with her
head bent low.
"Do you imagine that I am going to accept this logic with which you wish
to avoid the unpleasantness of exposing your life? Have no such thought,
even though there were one probability against a thousand of killing me,
it would be a pleasure for me to face you with sword or pistol. How far
the set resolution that I entertain of dying or of killing you goes to
put us on an equality, you know perfectly well. Therefore drop these
arguments worthy only of a coward, and be kind enough to expect to spend
as painful hours as those which you have taken so much pains to make us
suffer."
"I see that you mean to insult me. Do so with impunity; I grant you the
privilege.... But I warn you not to let an ill-sounding word pass your
lips in public."
"In private and in public I am resolved to do the same! You wretch!"
exclaimed Miguel, beside himself. "Everywhere I shall declare that you
are a knave, a cowardly assassin, who fights duels only with those
unable to defend themselves. In order that you may see how much fear I
have of you, take this."
Saying these words, he leaped like a lion upon Saavedra, who had risen
to his feet, expecting some such move. Before he could raise his hand,
the Andalusian seized him by the arms, and brutally hurled him back into
the middle of the room, so that he reeled. Miguel was just on the point
of springing at him again; but at that instant he found himself held by
more gentle arms--those of his sister, who, with her face distorted, her
eyes flashing, her voice choking with sobs, said:--
"No, Miguel, no; you cannot measure yourself with this man. After what I
have just heard I should prefer a thousand times to die, or to spend my
whole life in disgrace, rather than to marry such a monster."
"Let go of me! Let go!" cried Miguel, trying to free himself from her
arms.
"No, my brother; kill me, put me into a convent, but don't expose your
own life.... Remember Maximina and your little son."