who live by the sword
like yourself?"

"On the contrary, M. le Marquis, I have found them men who died by the
sword with astonishing ease. I cannot suppose that you desire to add
yourself to their number."

"And why, if you please?" La Tour d'Azyr's face had flamed scarlet
before that sneer.

"Oh," Andre-Louis raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, a man
considering. He delivered himself slowly. "Because, monsieur, you prefer
the easy victim--the Lagrons and Vilmorins of this world, mere sheep for
your butchering. That is why."

And then the Marquis struck him.

Andre-Louis stepped back. His eyes gleamed a moment; the next they were
smiling up into the face of his tall enemy.

"No better than the others, after all! Well, well! Remark, I beg you,
how history repeats itself--with certain differences. Because poor
Vilmorin could not bear a vile lie with which you goaded him, he struck
you. Because you cannot bear an equally vile truth which I have uttered,
you strike me. But always is the vileness yours. And now as then for the
striker there is..." He broke off. "But why name it? You will remember
what there is. Yourself you wrote it that day with the point of your
too-ready sword. But there. I will meet you if you desire it, monsieur."

"What else do you suppose that I desire? To talk?"

Andre-Louis turned to his friends and sighed. "So that I am to go
another jaunt to the Bois. Isaac, perhaps you will kindly have a word
with one of these friends of M. le Marquis', and arrange for nine
o'clock to-morrow, as usual."

"Not to-morrow," said the Marquis shortly to Le Chapeher. "I have an
engagement in the country, which I cannot postpone."

Le Chapelier looked at Andre-Louis.

"Then for M. le Marquis' convenience, we will say Sunday at the same
hour."

"I do not fight on Sunday. I am not a pagan to break the holy day."

"But surely the good God would not have the presumption to damn a
gentleman of M. le Marquis' quality on that account? Ah, well, Isaac,
please arrange for Monday, if it is not a feast-day or monsieur has not
some other pressing engagement. I leave it in your hands."

He bowed with the air of a man wearied by these details, and threading
his arm through Kersain's withdrew.

"Ah, Dieu de Dieu! But what a trick of it you have," said the Breton
deputy, entirely unsophisticated in these matters.

"To be sure I have. I have taken lessons at their hands." He laughed. He
was in excellent good-hu