nterrupted Bergenheim; "you just now spoke in
favor of this woman in a way that made me think you did not wish
her ruined in the eyes of the world; so I trust you will accept the
proposition I am about to make to you. An ordinary duel would arouse
suspicion and inevitably lead to a discovery of the truth; people would
seek for some plausible motive for the encounter, whatever story we
might tell our seconds. You know that there is but one motive which will
be found acceptable by society for a duel between a young man who had
been received as a guest of this house and the husband. In whatever way
this duel may terminate, this woman's honor would remain on the ground
with the dead, and that is what I wish to avoid, since she bears my
name."

"Will you explain to me what your plan is?" asked Octave, who could not
understand what his adversary had in mind.

"You know, Monsieur," Bergenheim continued, in his calm voice, "that I
had a perfect right to kill you a moment ago; I did not do so for two
reasons: first, a gentleman should use his sword and not a poniard, and
then your dead body would have embarrassed me."

"The river is close by!" interrupted Gerfaut, with a strange smile.

Christian looked at him fixedly for a moment, and then replied in a
slightly changed tone:

"Instead of availing myself of my right, I intend to risk my life
against yours. The danger is the same for myself, who never have
insulted you, as for you, who have offered me the deadliest insult that
one man can offer another. I am willing to spill my blood, but not to
soil my honor."

"If it is a duel without seconds that you desire, you have my consent; I
have perfect confidence in your loyalty, and I hope you can say the same
for mine."

Christian bowed his head slightly and continued:

"It is more than a duel without seconds, for the whole affair must be
so contrived as to be looked upon as an accident; it is the only way
to prevent the outbreak and scandal I dread so much. Now here is my
proposition: You know that a wild-boar hunt is to take place to-morrow
in the Mares woods. When we station ourselves we shall be placed
together at a spot I know of, where we shall be out of the sight of the
other hunters. When the boar crosses the enclosure we will fire at a
signal agreed upon. In this way, the denouement, whatever it may be,
will be looked upon as one of those accidents which so frequently happen
in shooting-parties."

"I am a dead ma