quickly when he fully faced his
opponent. He measured him instantaneously, and the man he saw became
stamped indelibly on his mind's eye--a picture, in typical contemptuous
perfection of feature and dress, of the French aristocracy of the old
_regime_. The very chair on the back of which his hand rested seemed a
part of the type--one of those beautiful white chairs of the period, on
which, on snowy, glittering tapestry, was woven a Fable of Lafontaine in
matchless Gobelin dyes.

"Do you admit, sir, that you have defamed me?" Lecour cried, grasping
the hilt of his sword and advancing a foot.

"I defame nobody," Louis answered coldly.

"Have you not disseminated statements that my name is stolen?"

"I have said that the noble designation of Repentigny did not belong to
you--that its rightful owners are my uncle the Marquis of Repentigny,
now in Paris, and his family."

"Did you not know----"

"Stay, sir. I have also asserted that you are an impostor, the son of a
tradesman of Canada, formerly a private soldier of the Marquis de
Lotbiniere, and that you have not the slightest claim to consort with
gentlemen, still less to belong to the Bodyguard, and less again to
become an officer."

"Liar! liar! liar! Lery, it is _you_ who are the impostor! You are
afraid of those who can tell the truth about you, but I did not conceive
that you would carry our colonial jealousies so far as this. Do you
persist or do you retract?"

"The scene becomes disagreeable," said some of those present to each
other.

"It is colonial jealousy, of course," said others. "What have we to do
with it?"

De Lery stood looking at Lecour without moving, in imperturbable
contempt.

"I demand satisfaction," the latter hissed.

De Lery moved only slightly.

"The laws of honour," said he, "would bid me answer the challenge of a
gentleman. But do you flatter yourself they compel me to cross steel
with such as you?"

This was the cruellest blow, and under it Germain winced wrathfully. It
was so cruel that those present murmured, and some cried "Shame!"

"You _shall_ meet me! You _must_ meet me! Besides a slanderer, you are a
coward. Your company, whom you disgrace, have honour enough to make you
meet me," called Germain in tones of rage.

"Accept! accept! accept!" cried the Guardsmen of the company of
Villeroy.

"You ask me to dishonour myself?--to cross swords with an animal?"
exclaimed de Lery, turning angrily to his comrades.

"Sham