THE MEETING.
As soon as Lafare, Fargy, and Ravanne saw their adversaries appear at
the corner of the path, they walked to meet them. Arrived at ten paces
from each other, they all took off their hats and bowed with that
elegant politeness which was a characteristic of the aristocracy of the
eighteenth century, and advanced some steps thus bareheaded with a smile
on their lips, so that to the eyes of the passer-by, ignorant of the
cause of their reunion, they would have appeared like friends enchanted
to meet.
"Gentlemen," said the Chevalier d'Harmental, to whom the first word by
right belonged, "I hope that neither you nor we have been followed; but
it is getting late, and we might be disturbed here. I think it would be
wise in us to find a more retired spot, where we shall be more at ease
to transact the little business which we have in hand."
"Gentlemen," said Ravanne, "I know one which will suit you, a hundred
yards from here--a true cover."
"Come, let us follow the child," said the captain; "innocence leads to
safety."
Ravanne turned round, and examined, from head to foot, our friend with
the yellow ribbons.
"If you are not previously engaged, my strapping friend," said he, in a
bantering tone, "I claim the preference."
"Wait a moment, Ravanne," interrupted Lafare; "I have some explanations
to give to Monsieur d'Harmental."
"Monsieur Lafare," replied the chevalier, "your courage is so well
known, that the explanations you offer me are a proof of delicacy for
which I thank you; but these explanations would only delay us uselessly,
and we have no time to lose."
"Bravo!" cried Ravanne, "that is what I call speaking, chevalier. As
soon as we have cut each other's throats, I hope you will grant me your
friendship. I have heard you much spoken of in good quarters, and have
long wished to make your acquaintance."
"Come, come, Ravanne," said Fargy, "since you have undertaken to be our
guide, show us the way."
Ravanne sprang into the wood like a young fawn: his five companions
followed. At the end of about ten minutes' walking, during which the six
adversaries had maintained the most profound silence, either from fear
of being heard, or from that natural feeling which makes a man in the
moment of danger reflective for a time, they found themselves in the
midst of a glade, surrounded on all sides by a screen of trees.
"Well," said Ravanne, looking round him in a satisfied manner, "what do
you say to the locality?"
"I say that if you boast of having discovered it," said the captain,
"you are a strange kind of Christopher Columbus. If you had told me it
was here you were coming, I could have guided you with my eyes
shut."----"Well," replied Ravanne, "we will endeavor that you shall
leave it in the same manner."
"It is with you that my business lies, Monsieur de Lafare," said
D'Harmental, throwing his hat on the ground.
"Yes, monsieur," replied the captain of the guards, following the
example of the chevalier; "and at the same time I know that nothing
could give me more honor and more pain than a rencontre with you,
particularly for such a cause."
D'Harmental smiled as a man on whom this flower of politeness was not
lost, but his only answer was to draw his sword.
"It appears, my dear baron," said Fargy, addressing himself to Valef,
"that you are on the point of setting out for Spain."
"I ought to have left last night; and nothing less than the pleasure I
promised myself in seeing you this morning would have detained me till
now, so important is my errand."
"Diable! you distress me," said Fargy, drawing, "for if I should have
the misfortune to retard you, you are the man to bear me deadly malice."
"Not at all. I should know that it was from pure friendship, my dear
count," replied Valef; "so do your best, I beg, for I am at your
orders."
"Come, then, monsieur," said Ravanne to the captain, who was folding his
coat neatly, and placing it by his hat, "you see that I am waiting for
you."
"Do not be impatient, my fine fellow," said the old soldier, continuing
his preparations with the phlegm natural to him; "one of the most
essential qualities in arms is sang-froid. I was like you at your age;
but after the third or fourth sword-blow I received, I understood that I
was on the wrong road, and I returned to the right path. There," added
he, at last drawing his sword, which I have said was of extreme length.
"Peste!" said Ravanne, throwing a glance on his adversary's weapon,
"what a charming implement you have there! It reminds me of the great
spit in my mother's kitchen; and I am grieved that I did not order the
maitre-d'hotel to bring it me, as a match to yours."
"Your mother is a worthy woman, and her 'cuisine' is a good one; I have
heard both spoken of with great praise, Monsieur le Chevalier," replied
the captain with an almost paternal manner; "I should be grieved to take
you from one or the other for a trifle like that which procures me the
honor of crossing swords with you. Suppose, then, that you are only
taking a lesson from your fencing-master, and keep the distance."
The recommendation was useless. Ravanne was exasperated by his
adversary's calmness, to which, in spite of his courage, his young and
ardent blood did not allow him to attain. He attacked the captain with
such fury that their swords engaged at the hilt. The captain made a step
back.
"Ah! you give ground, my tall friend."
"To give ground is not to fly, my little chevalier," replied the
captain; "it is an axiom of the art which I advise you to consider;
besides, I am not sorry to study your play. Ah! you are a pupil of
Berthelot, apparently; he is a good master, but he has one great fault:
it is not teaching to parry. Stay, look at this," continued he, replying
by a thrust in "seconde" to a straight thrust; "if I had lunged, I
should have spitted you like a lark."
Ravanne was furious, for he had felt on his breast the point of his
adversary's sword, but so lightly that he might have taken it for the
button of a foil. His anger redoubled at the conviction that he owed his
life to the captain, and his attacks became more numerous and more
furious than ever.
"Stop, stop," said the captain; "now you are going crazy, and trying to
blind me; fie! fie! young man; at the chest, morbleu! Ah! at the face
again; you will force me to disarm you. Again! Go and pick up your
sword, young man; and come back hopping on one leg to calm yourself."
And with a sudden twist he whipped Ravanne's sword out of his hand and
sent it flying some twenty paces from him. This time Ravanne profited by
the advice. He went slowly to pick up his sword, and came back quietly
to the captain; but the young man was as pale as his satin vest, on
which was apparent a small drop of blood.
"You are right, captain," said he, "and I am still but a child; but this
meeting will, I hope, help to make a man of me. Some passes more, if you
please, that it may not be said you have had all the honors."
And he put himself on guard. The captain was right; the chevalier only
required to be calm to make him a formidable adversary: thus, at the
first thrust of this third engagement, he saw that he must attend solely
to his own defense; but his superiority in the art of fencing was too
decided for his young adversary to obtain any advantage over him. The
matter ended as it was easy to foresee. The captain disarmed Ravanne a
second time; but this time he went and picked up the sword himself, and
with a politeness of which at first one might have supposed him
incapable.
"Monsieur le Chevalier," said he, extending his hand to Ravanne, "you
are a brave young man; but believe in an old frequenter of schools and
taverns, who was at the Flemish wars before you were born, at the
Italian when you were in your cradle, and at the Spanish while you were
a page; change your master. Leave Berthelot, who has already taught you
all he knows, and take Bois-Robert; and may the devil fly away with me,
if in six months you are not as good a fencer as myself."
"Thanks for your lesson," said Ravanne, taking the hand of the captain,
while two tears, which he could not restrain, flowed down his cheeks; "I
hope it will profit me."
And, receiving his sword, he did what the captain had already
done--sheathed it. They then both cast their eyes on their companions to
see how things were going. The combat was over. Lafare was seated on the
ground, with his back leaning against a tree: he had been run through
the body, but happily the point of the sword had struck against a rib,
and had glanced along the bone, so that the wound seemed at first worse
than it really was; still he had fainted--the shock had been so violent.
D'Harmental was on his knees before him, endeavoring to staunch the
blood with his handkerchief. Fargy and Valef had wounded each other at
the same moment. One was struck in the thigh, the other run through the
arm; both had apologized, promising to be friends for the future.
"Look, young man," said the captain, showing Ravanne these different
episodes of the field of battle. "Look on that, and meditate. There is
the blood of three brave gentlemen flowing--probably for a folly."
"Faith, captain," answered Ravanne, quite calmed down, "I believe you
are right, and that you are the only one of us all that has got common
sense."
At that moment Lafare opened his eyes and recognized D'Harmental in the
man who was tending him.
"Chevalier," said he, "take a friend's advice; send me a kind of surgeon
whom you will find in the carriage, and whom I brought with me in case
of accident. Then gain Paris as fast as possible. Show yourself to-night
at the opera ball, and if they ask you about me, say that it is a week
since you have seen me. As to me, you may be quite easy. Your name shall
not pass my lips; and if you get into any unpleasant discussion with the
police, let me know at once, and we will manage so that the affair shall
have no consequences."
"Thanks, Monsieur le Marquis," answered D'Harmental, "I quit you because
I leave you in better hands than mine; otherwise, believe me, nothing
should have separated me from you until I had seen you in your bed."
"Pleasant journey, my dear Valef," said Fargy, "for I do not think that
scratch will hinder your going. On your return, do not forget that you
have a friend at No. 14, Place Louis-le-Grand."
"And you, my dear Fargy, if you have any commission for Madrid, you have
but to say so, and you may rely upon its being executed with the
exactitude and zeal of a true comrade."
And the two friends shook hands as if nothing had passed.
"Adieu, young man, adieu," said the captain to Ravanne; "do not forget
the advice which I have given you. Give up Berthelot, and take to
Bois-Robert. Be calm--give ground when it is necessary--parry in time,
and you will be one of the best fencers in the kingdom of France. My
implement sends its compliments to your mother's great spit."
Ravanne, in spite of his presence of mind, could not find anything to
reply to the captain; so he contented himself with bowing and going up
to Lafare, who appeared to be the most seriously wounded.
As to D'Harmental, Valef, and the captain, they rapidly gained the path,
where they found the coach, and inside, the surgeon, who was enjoying a
nap. D'Harmental woke him; and showing him the way he must go, told him
that the Marquis de Lafare and the Comte de Fargy had need of his
services. He also ordered his valet to dismount and follow the surgeon
in order to aid him; then, turning toward the captain--
"Captain," said he, "I do not think that it would be prudent to go and
eat the breakfast which we have ordered; therefore receive my thanks for
the assistance you have rendered me, and in remembrance of me, as it
seems you are on foot, will you accept one of my two horses? you can
take one by chance; they are both good, and neither will fail you if you
have need to go eight or ten leagues in the hour."
"Faith, chevalier," answered the captain, casting a look on the horse
which had been so generously offered to him, "there was no need for
that. Their blood and their purses are things which gentlemen lend each
other every day; but you make the offer with so good a grace that I know
not how to refuse you. If you ever have need of me, for anything
whatever, remember that I am at your service."
"If that case should occur, where should I find you, monsieur?" said
D'Harmental, smiling.
"I have no fixed residence, chevalier, but you may always hear of me by
going to La Fillon's and asking for La Normande, and inquiring of her
for Captain Roquefinette."
And as the two young men mounted their horses, the captain did the same,
not without remarking to himself that D'Harmental had left him the best
of the three. Then, as they were near a four-cross road, each one took
his own way at a gallop.
The Baron de Valef re-entered by the Barriere de Passy, and returned
straight to the arsenal to receive the commissions of the Duchesse de
Maine, to whose establishment he belonged, and left the same day for
Spain.
Captain Roquefinette made two or three tours round the Bois de Boulogne,
walking, trotting, and galloping, in order to appreciate the different
qualities of his horse; and having satisfied himself that it was, as
the chevalier had told him, a fine and pure-blooded animal, he returned
to Durand's hotel, where he ate, all alone, the breakfast which had been
ordered for three. The same day, he took his horse to a dealer and sold
it for sixty louis. It was about half what it was worth; but one must be
prepared to make sacrifices, if one wishes to realize promptly.
As to the Chevalier d'Harmental, he took the road to La Muette, entered
Paris by the great avenue of the Champs-Elysees, and on returning to his
home in the Rue de Richelieu, found two letters waiting for him. One of
these letters was in a handwriting so well known to him that he trembled
from head to foot as he looked at it, and after having taken it up with
as much hesitation as if it had been a burning coal, he opened it with a
hand whose shaking betrayed the importance he attached to it. It read as
follows:
"MY DEAR CHEVALIER--No one is master of his own
heart--you know that; and it is one of the misfortunes
of our nature not to be able to love the same person,
or the same thing, long at a time. As to myself, I wish
at least to have, beyond other women, the merit of
never deceiving the man who has been my lover. Do not
come, then, at your accustomed hour, for you will be
told that I am not at home; and I am so scrupulous that
I would not willingly endanger the soul even of a valet
or a waiting-maid by making them tell so great a lie.
"Adieu, my dear chevalier. Do not retain too unkind a
remembrance of me, and behave so that ten years hence I
may still think what I think now--that is to say, that
you are one of the noblest gentlemen in France.
"SOPHIE D'AVERNE."
"Mon Dieu!" cried D'Harmental, striking his fist on a beautiful buhl
table, which he smashed to bits, "if I have killed that poor Lafare I
shall never forgive myself."
After this outburst, which comforted him a little, the poor fellow began
to walk backward and forward between the door and the window in a
manner that showed that he still wanted more deceptions of the same sort
in order to arrive at the perfection of moral philosophy which the
faithless beauty preached to him. Then, after two or three turns, he saw
the other letter, which he had entirely forgotten, lying on the floor.
He passed it once or twice, looking at it with a supreme indifference.
At last, seeming to think that it would make some diversion on the
first, he picked it up disdainfully, opened it slowly, looked at the
writing, which was unknown to him, searched for the signature, but there
was none; and then, led on by the mysterious air of it, he read as
follows:
"CHEVALIER--If you have in your mind a quarter of the
romance, or in your heart half the courage, that your
friends give you credit for, some one is ready to offer
you an enterprise worthy of you, and the result of
which will be at the same time to avenge you on the man
you hate most in the world, and to conduct you to a
goal more brilliant than you can have hoped for in your
wildest dreams. The good genius who will lead you
thither by an enchanted road, and in whom you must
trust entirely, will expect you this evening at ten
o'clock at the opera ball. If you come there unmasked,
he will come to you; if you come masked, you will know
him by the violet ribbon which he will wear on his left
shoulder. The watch-word is 'open sesame;' speak
boldly, and a cavern will open to you as wonderful as
that of Ali Baba."
"Bravo!" said D'Harmental; "if the genius in the violet ribbons keeps
only half his promise, by my honor he has found his man!"