But, on the way, the jolting of the cab and the heat of the morning sun made him languish. His energy gave way again. He could not even distinguish any longer where they were. The Baron amused himself by increasing his terror, talking about the "corpse," and of the way they meant to get back clandestinely to the city. Joseph gave the rejoinder; both, considering the affair ridiculous, were certain that it would be settled.
Cisy kept his head on his breast; he lifted it up slowly, and drew attention to the fact that they had not taken a doctor with them.
"'Tis needless," said the Baron.
"Then there's no danger?"
Joseph answered in a grave tone:
"Let us hope so!"
And nobody in the carriage made any further remark.
At ten minutes past seven they arrived in front of the Maillot gate. Frederick and his seconds were there, the entire group being dressed all in black. Regimbart, instead of a cravat, wore a stiff horsehair collar, like a trooper; and he carried a long violin-case adapted for adventures of this kind. They exchanged frigid bows. Then they all plunged into the Bois de Boulogne, taking the Madrid road, in order to find a suitable place.
Regimbart said to Frederick, who was walking between him and Dussardier:
"Well, and this scare – what do we care about it? If you want anything, don't annoy yourself about it; I know what to do. Fear is natural to man!"
Then, in a low tone:
"Don't smoke any more; in this case it has a weakening effect."
Frederick threw away his cigar, which had only a disturbing effect on his brain, and went on with a firm step. The Vicomte advanced behind, leaning on the arms of his two seconds. Occasional wayfarers crossed their path. The sky was blue, and from time to time they heard rabbits skipping about. At the turn of a path, a woman in a Madras neckerchief was chatting with a man in a blouse; and in the large avenue under the chestnut-trees some grooms in vests of linen-cloth were walking horses up and down.
Cisy recalled the happy days when, mounted on his own chestnut horse, and with his glass stuck in his eye, he rode up to carriage-doors. These recollections intensified his wretchedness. An intolerable thirst parched his throat. The buzzing of flies mingled with the throbbing of his arteries. His feet sank into the sand. It seemed to him as if he had been walking during a period which had neither beginning nor end.
The seconds, without stopping, examined with keen glances each side of the path they were traversing. They hesitated as to whether they would go to the Catelan Cross or under the walls of the Bagatelle. At last they took a turn to the right; and they drew up in a kind of quincunx in the midst of the pine-trees.
The spot was chosen in such a way that the level ground was cut equally into two divisions. The two places at which the principals in the duel were to take their stand were marked out. Then Regimbart opened his case. It was lined with red sheep's-leather, and contained four charming swords hollowed in the centre, with handles which were adorned with filigree. A ray of light, passing through the leaves, fell on them, and they appeared to Cisy to glitter like silver vipers on a sea of blood.
The Citizen showed that they were of equal length. He took one himself, in order to separate the combatants in case of necessity. M. de Comaing held a walking-stick. There was an interval of silence. They looked at each other. All the faces had in them something fierce or cruel.
Frederick had taken off his coat and his waistcoat. Joseph aided Cisy to do the same. When his cravat was removed a blessed medal could be seen on his neck. This made Regimbart smile contemptuously.
Then M. de Comaing (in order to allow Frederick another moment for reflection) tried to raise some quibbles. He demanded the right to put on a glove, and to catch hold of his adversary's sword with the left hand. Regimbart, who was in a hurry, made no objection to this. At last the Baron, addressing Frederick:
"Everything depends on you, Monsieur! There is never any dishonour in acknowledging one's faults."
Dussardier made a gesture of approval. The Citizen gave vent to his indignation:
"Do you think we came here as a mere sham, damn it! Be on your guard, each of you!"
The combatants were facing one another, with their seconds by their sides.
He uttered the single word:
"Come!"
Cisy became dreadfully pale. The end of his blade was quivering like a horsewhip. His head fell back, his hands dropped down helplessly, and he sank unconscious on the ground. Joseph raised him up and while holding a scent-bottle to his nose, gave him a good shaking.
The Vicomte reopened his eyes, then suddenly grasped at his sword like a madman. Frederick had held his in readiness, and now awaited him with steady eye and uplifted hand.
"Stop! stop!" cried a voice, which came from the road simultaneously with the sound of a horse at full gallop, and the hood of a cab broke the branches. A man bending out his head waved a handkerchief, still exclaiming:
"Stop! stop!"
M. de Comaing, believing that this meant the intervention of the police, lifted up his walking-stick.
"Make an end of it. The Vicomte is bleeding!"
"I?" said Cisy.
In fact, he had in his fall taken off the skin of his left thumb.
"But this was by falling," observed the Citizen.
The Baron pretended not to understand.
Arnoux had jumped out of the cab.
"I have arrived too late? No! Thanks be to God!"
He threw his arms around Frederick, felt him, and covered his face with kisses.
"I am the cause of it. You wanted to defend your old friend! That's right – that's right! Never shall I forget it! How good you are! Ah! my own dear boy!"
He gazed at Frederick and shed tears, while he chuckled with delight. The Baron turned towards Joseph:
"I believe we are in the way at this little family party. It is over, messieurs, is it not? Vicomte, put your arm into a sling. Hold on! here is my silk handkerchief."
Then, with an imperious gesture: "Come! no spite! This is as it should be!"
The two adversaries shook hands in a very lukewarm fashion. The Vicomte, M. de Comaing, and Joseph disappeared in one direction, and Frederick left with his friends in the opposite direction.
As the Madrid Restaurant was not far off, Arnoux proposed that they should go and drink a glass of beer there.
"We might even have breakfast."
But, as Dussardier had no time to lose, they confined themselves to taking some refreshment in the garden.
They all experienced that sense of satisfaction which follows happy dénouements. The Citizen, nevertheless, was annoyed at the duel having been interrupted at the most critical stage.
Arnoux had been apprised of it by a person named Compain, a friend of Regimbart; and with an irrepressible outburst of emotion he had rushed to the spot to prevent it, under the impression, however, that he was the occasion of it. He begged of Frederick to furnish him with some details about it. Frederick, touched by these proofs of affection, felt some scruples at the idea of increasing his misapprehension of the facts.
"For mercy's sake, don't say any more about it!"
Arnoux thought that this reserve showed great delicacy. Then, with his habitual levity, he passed on to some fresh subject.
"What news, Citizen?"
And they began talking about banking transactions, and the number of bills that