Volume 14 / Part 2 — XXIII THE SECONDS

On leaving the ball at Goldfish Villa, Freluchon and Edmond returned to the house occupied by the latter.

“You will need another second for to-morrow,” said Freluchon; “where can you find one in this place?”

“He is all found: the owner of the Tower, a gentleman of the best tone, who comes to Madame Dalmont’s sometimes in the evening. I am sure that he won’t refuse to do me this favor. We will go to see him early to-morrow.”

“Very good.”

“But the most important thing of all is to keep all knowledge of this duel, and of the quarrel of this evening as well, from the two ladies.”

“We won’t tell them; but everything becomes known so quickly in small places like this!”

“They never go out or receive any visits; from whom then can they learn what happened at that infernal fête?”

“So much the better; I trust you are right. But it’s daybreak already, and we have only a short time to sleep. Let us make haste. Luckily, I fall asleep very quickly myself.”

At eight o’clock in the morning, Edmond was out of bed and woke his friend.

“What! already?” muttered Freluchon; “why, we’ve hardly got to bed!”

“That may be; but it’s a long distance from here to the Tower; then we must come back, and I don’t want Monsieur Luminot’s seconds to come and not find us.”

“Oh! never you fear; those fellows won’t be in such a hurry as you are; especially if Chamoureau’s one of them.”

“I should say that he must be, as the affair took place in his house.”

“Then it will be more amusing; I will tell him that the seconds have to fight also.”

Freluchon consented to rise at last, and the two friends were soon en route for the Tower.

“I recognize this part of the country,” said Freluchon as they crossed Gournay bridge. “This is where I came for that famous matelote, which you left me to eat all alone.”

“Yes, the estate we are going to is a little beyond Gournay.”

“Ah, yes! Gournay! a little village that I could put in my pocket. Suppose we should stop and eat a matelote when we come back?”

“Can you think of such a thing? What about my duel, and the seconds I expect?”

“If Chamoureau is one of them, they won’t come till next week.—I am very hungry myself. Will your high-toned gentleman invite us to breakfast? It seems to me that that is the most high-toned thing he could do.”

Edmond’s only reply was to quicken his pace.

Freluchon trotted along behind him, saying:

“If I had known it was so far, I’d have hired an ass for us both; we should have resembled half of the Four Sons of Aymon. Do you know, I have always liked that story of the Four Sons of Aymon! particularly on account of their horse. Horses of that build aren’t made to-day! Think of putting four people on one of our ponies of the present day! even the third one would be on his tail—where would the fourth one be, I would like to know?”

The young men reached the Tower in due time. Edmond was about to ask to speak with the proprietor, when he, having seen them coming, hastened forward to meet the two friends.

Paul was no longer the same man; a complete change had taken place in his whole aspect since the preceding night. In place of the gloomy, careworn expression which was habitual to him, he presented himself to Edmond with a smiling, expansive countenance. His dress too had undergone a change; he was dressed with more care and had shaved part of his beard; he was no longer the man who shuns society.

“You at my house, Monsieur Didier, and at such an early hour! This is very kind of you. Come in, messieurs; the proprietor of the Tower is happy to welcome you to his manor house.”

“Thanks for your cordial welcome, monsieur,” replied Edmond, taking the hand that Paul offered him. “But we have only a few moments, and I have come to ask you to do me a favor.”

“A favor! I am entirely at your service. But I supposed that another motive brought you here, I thought—Have you not seen Mademoiselle Agathe since yesterday?”

“Oh, no! and it is most important that she and Madame Dalmont should not know of our visit to you.”

“Pardon me, monsieur,” said Freluchon, throwing himself upon a chair, “but although he is in such a hurry, I will ask your permission to rest a bit. He has made me run almost all the way, and it’s a long distance from Chelles; I am used up.”

“Make yourselves at home, messieurs.—But speak, Monsieur Edmond; what you have just said makes me anxious.”

“Monsieur, Freluchon and myself both went last night to a party given by Monsieur and Madame de Belleville.”

“I know it.”

“I didn’t go until quite late in the evening.”

“But I dined there—which doesn’t mean that I am not very hungry this morning.”

“You shall have breakfast here.”

“Oh! Monsieur Paul, for heaven’s sake, pay no attention to what Freluchon says; you will see that we must go away again immediately.—At that party I had a scene, a quarrel, with a certain Monsieur Luminot, who lives at Chelles.”

“The ground of your quarrel—what was it?”

“The most serious imaginable, for a man of honor; he insulted the lady whom I love, he presumed to speak in contemptuous terms of Mademoiselle Agathe and her protectress, Madame Dalmont.—At first some ladies, intimate friends of Madame de Belleville, began to make those slanderous remarks which women are so adroit at flinging at people whom they detest; but luckily a man mingled in the conversation and chose to affirm what the women had said. I ordered him to take back his words; he refused and I struck him!”

“Ah! you did well!” cried Paul, grasping Edmond’s arm. “Insult Agathe! insult that good, honorable woman who has been like a mother to her! the wretches! But those remarks, those dastardly slanders, all were certainly prepared, concerted beforehand by Thélénie.”

“By Thélénie! Do you too know Madame de Belleville?”

“How nicely it comes about!” said Freluchon. “Parbleu! who doesn’t know that lady?—Oh, yes! there’s her husband, Chamoureau—he has no suspicion what she is.”

“Yes, messieurs, ten years ago that woman was my mistress, and she is the cause of my having passed my life since then in sadness and remorse. You shall know the whole story later; let us return to your duel.”

“When this Monsieur Luminot received my blow, he attempted to throw himself upon me.”

“And no one tried to prevent him,” said Freluchon. “Observe that the worthy man is a giant and could have crushed Edmond simply by falling on him. Luckily I arrived at that moment; I am not a giant—on the contrary, I am rather slender and fragile to look at! But beneath this feeble exterior, I carry a pair of small steel wrists which are equal to the best made at Birmingham. I grabbed Luminot by the waist, lifted him up, and tossed him at hazard. I believe that when he fell he damaged the husband of one of the harpies who began the scene; there was no harm done; I am only sorry that I didn’t pulverize those women at the same time. What horrid-tasting salt they would have made! It would have been excellent rat poison.”

“I will be your second, and I thank you for thinking of me. Monsieur is your other second, no doubt?”

“Yes, monsieur; if I don’t die of hunger first.”

“When does your duel take place?”

“I have no idea as yet; I told the fellow that I should expect his seconds; that is why I am in a hurry to return home.”

“I will be at your house in an hour.”

“Oh! monsieur, you have plenty of time, I assure you!” said Freluchon. “I know Chamoureau, alias de Belleville; he’ll drag the thing out.”

“I don’t know what those gentlemen may do, Freluchon, but I propose to be there when they come. Let us go.”

“Have a glass of madeira, messieurs, to restore your strength.”

“Ah, yes! one, two, several glasses of madeira!”

“Freluchon, you are getting to be a genuine glutton!”

“My son, you are getting to be an anchorite! I shall cease to consort with you.”

The madeira was brought, and Edmond drank a glass in haste. Freluchon drank several in quick succession, and they took leave of their host, agreeing to meet again soon.

That same day, but not until about noon, for they slept late at Madame de Belleville’s, Chamoureau, having breakfasted, received orders from his wife to go to Monsieur Luminot’s and take his instructions concerning the duel.

Chamoureau hesitated for some time, seeking pretexts for keeping his skirts clear of the affair; but Thélénie said to him imperatively:

“You cannot break your promise, and you promised Monsieur Luminot to be his second. After all, monsieur, what are you afraid of? seconds don’t fight.”

That assurance emboldened Chamoureau, who took his hat and cane, then considered a moment whether he should not put on a leather chest protector, lest, as a second, he might receive some splashes. But his wife urged him and pushed him out of the door; so he bent his steps toward the former wine merchant’s house, saying to himself:

“After all, the day of the duel isn’t fixed yet; I have time ahead of me.”

Monsieur Luminot was pacing his floor in dressing gown and slippers, holding a foil in one hand and the sabre of a national guardsman in the other. He stopped every moment to lunge at the wall with his foil, or to make a cut at a wardrobe with his sabre. He thrust and parried with a triumphant air, but at the bottom of his heart, he was by no means overjoyed to fight; and since he had recovered his self-possession, since the fumes of the wine and the punch had disappeared, he kept asking himself:

“What in the devil did I meddle for? I slandered those ladies, whom I don’t know, and who may be perfectly respectable, simply to please that fat Droguet woman, who had said to me: ‘You will be careful to agree with us when we attack the women in the Courtivaux house.’—I ought not to have listened to her, I was very foolish; but I’ve got to fight because I have been struck.”

When Chamoureau entered the room, Monsieur Luminot was just in the act of executing a thrust with his foil, and the visitor stepped back in dismay, crying:

“Mon Dieu! the duel has begun. In that case they don’t need me, and I am going home!”

But the former wine merchant recalled his second.

“Well! where are you going?”

“Why, I am going home; as you’ve begun to fight, you don’t need seconds.”

“But I am not fighting; I am just practising, to get my hand in. Pray come in, my dear Monsieur de Belleville. Do you know, I am terribly distressed to have had that scene in your house!”

“And what about me? Do you think it is pleasant for me?”

“I may have been wrong to speak so slightingly of those two ladies.”

“If you admit that you were wrong, then the affair is arranged, and it isn’t worth while to fight.”

“Yes, but I received a blow!”

“If you were in the wrong——”

“Oh! I beg pardon—a blow calls for a sword-thrust. If I hadn’t received a blow, I would say: ‘I withdraw my insulting remarks about those ladies.’”

“Well! and if he should withdraw his blow——”

“That can hardly be done; unless he should let me give him one; then we should be quits!”

“He won’t do that.”

“In that case, you see, I must fight.—By the way, I need another second; two are none too many.”

“No, no! they’re none too many; perhaps you might have three or four—that would make more people.”

“No, it’s the custom to have only two. Who in the devil can I get for the other? I thought that you would bring one.”

“My wife didn’t tell me to.”

“Let us see—some hearty blade like you and me. Suppose I should take Jarnouillard?”

“I have just met him; he was going to Paris.”

“The doctor? No, he would refuse; he reprobates duels!”

“He is quite right! so do I!”

“But, my dear Monsieur de Belleville, when one can do nothing else!—Ah! Monsieur Droguet.”

“You wounded him when you fell on him last night.”

“Monsieur Remplumé then.”

“He is lame!”

“What difference does that make? he’s a tough old fellow, he used to be a corporal in the National Guard.”

“Do you think so?”

“He has often told me so. Yes, yes, Remplumé must be my second second. Let us go and ask him; will you be good enough to come with me? your presence will keep him from refusing.”

“If you think that my presence will be of any service, let us go.”

“Just give me time to put on a coat and waistcoat and a cravat.”

“Go on! go on! I am in no hurry.”

“One, two!—what say you to that sword-thrust, eh?”

“Superb! you have made a hole in your partition!”

“And this sabre cut—pan! paf!”

“Magnificent! Your wardrobe is all covered with gashes; it has seen some cruel work! Are you going to fight with sword and sabre?”

“I am tempted to choose pistols.”

“In that case, what’s the use of making holes in your partition and hacking your wardrobe?”

“I don’t know; I will see, I will reflect.—Monsieur de Belleville, your party was grand! and what a dinner you gave us!”

“There were some good things to eat!”

“In other words, there were dishes prepared with consummate art! I enjoyed among other things, a salmi of partridge, aux truffes——”

“With snipe!”

“Ah! there were snipe! that explains it; I said to myself that it had been kept just long enough!”

“And the mayonnaise of lobster?”

“And those white puddings à la purée of chestnuts!”

The two worthies passed the whole dinner in review, pausing to descant upon the dishes they had enjoyed most. This had lasted some time, when Monsieur Luminot exclaimed:

“Mon Dieu! and my duel!”

“I hoped he had forgotten it,” thought Chamoureau.

But it was after two o’clock when they went to Monsieur Remplumé’s house. The little lame man received them, coughing, spitting and sneezing as usual.

“You know about the scene that took place last evening at Monsieur de Belleville’s ball, do you not?” asked Luminot, laying his hand on the lame man’s shoulder.

“Yes, yes! I know all about it, it has made noise enough; no one is talking about anything else all over the country. Besides, I arrived just as you fell on top of poor Droguet; you knocked out three of his teeth!”

“Two!”

“Three! he found there was another one missing when he got home.”

“It isn’t my fault; why did he happen to be under me when I fell?”

“That’s so; hum! hum! hum! When I go to bed so late, it makes my cough worse.”

“You know that I am to fight with Monsieur Edmond Didier, neighbor?”

“I know that he struck you, but I didn’t know whether you were going to fight or not.”

“Do you think that I will swallow that blow? Wouldn’t you fight if you were in my place, you who have been a corporal in the National Guard?”

“I? hum! hum! Sapredié! hum! hum! Oh! but I’m a swordsman, I am! It isn’t safe to look askance at me!—Hum! hum! I’ve got a horrid lump in my throat!”

“Do you think that I’ll let anyone tread on my toes?”

“I never said so. Hum! hum!”

“As you’re such a swordsman, you will be my second witness; you will enjoy it.”

“Your witness! to what?”

“Parbleu! to my duel with that popinjay who insulted me. Monsieur de Belleville is kind enough to be my principal second, and you must be the other.”

“Oh! but—I’ve got a very bad cold!”

“It won’t interfere with your coughing; I hope that I may count on you?”

“Let’s see—first, let’s see why you are going to fight?”

“Because I have received a blow.”

“Very good; but why did he strike you?”

“Why? because I said that this Madame Dalmont and her friend were hussies—didn’t amount to much.”

“But you were in the wrong. Why did you say that? are you sure of it?”

“Sure! not at all; but it was your ladies who did nothing but say it over and over again, and worked me up to it; besides, I was full of punch.”

“You should never make statements that you’re not sure of; isn’t that so, Monsieur de Belleville?”

Chamoureau scratched his nose, trying to think of a reply; but stout Luminot exclaimed:

“Enough of this! Sacrebleu! Monsieur Remplumé, you can’t refuse to be my second in an affair in which your wife urged me on to the quarrel, with the other ladies.”

“Monsieur, if my wife urged you on, I will be—hum! hum!—your second; I will put some licorice in my pocket—When do you fight?”

“That is for you two to arrange with this Monsieur Edmond’s seconds.—After all, I’d rather fight with him than with the fellow who grabbed me and tossed me in the air. Ah! the rascal! what muscle! what a biceps!”

“That was Freluchon—formerly my intimate friend, in the time of Eléonore, my first wife.”

“I congratulate you!—Go now, messieurs, and settle upon the place and hour of the combat.”

“I say! I hope it won’t be to-day!” cried Chamoureau; “what do you say to a week from Sunday?”

“My dear Monsieur de Belleville, a duel is never postponed so long as that. It is already three o’clock; it is too late for a meeting to-day. Fix it for to-morrow morning—at eight o’clock. We can meet in the little wood on your left as you go down toward Raincy—just behind the old keeper’s house.”

“Very good; and what weapons do you propose to fight with? You are the insulted party, and you have the right to choose.”

“Yes, I know that well enough! I have the choice of weapons, and that is what embarrasses me; that is the difficulty.”

“Which are you strongest with?”

“I am strong at all; that is to say, I can defend myself. Ah! if we could fight with the quarter-staff—that’s the thing I can handle!”

“Well, choose the quarter-staff,” said Chamoureau; “it isn’t so dangerous.”

“It isn’t accepted in fashionable society! I am reflecting; as the insulted party, I shall fire first.”

“I know nothing about it.”

“Yes, yes! hum! hum! you will fire first.”

“Then I choose pistols.”

“That’s right,” said Chamoureau; “then, if you miss your opponent, you can pass at once to the sword.”

“Messieurs, will you please go to this Monsieur Edmond’s house, you know where he lives?”

“Perfectly well.”

“Remember what we have agreed upon—eight o’clock to-morrow.”

“And if it can’t be to-morrow,” said Chamoureau, “why, so much the better! we won’t go there again.”