In less than half an hour they reached the Bois de Boulogne. The weather was lovely, and the air delightful, although the power of the sun was already felt: the fresh leaves were appearing on the trees, and the violets filled the place with their perfume.
"It is a fine day for our promenade, is it not, M. de Taverney?" said Charny.
"Beautiful, sir."
"You may go," said Charny to his coachman.
"Are you not wrong, sir, to send away your carriage?--one of us may need it."
"No, sir," replied Charny; "in this affair secrecy before everything, and once in the knowledge of a servant, we risk it being talked of all over Paris to-morrow."
"As you please, but do you think the fellow does not know what he came here for? These people know well what brings two gentlemen to the Bois de Boulogne, and even if he did not feel sure now, he will perhaps afterwards see one of us wounded, and will have no doubts left then. Is it not then better to keep him here to take back either who shall need him, than to be left, or leave me here, wounded and alone?"
"You are right, monsieur," replied Charny; and, turning to the coachman, he said, "No, stop, Dauphin; you shall wait here."
Dauphin remained accordingly, and as he perfectly guessed what was coming, he arranged his position, so as to see through the still leafless trees all that pa.s.sed.
They walked on a little way, then Philippe said, "I think, M. de Charny, this is a good place."
"Excellent, monsieur," said Charny, and added: "Chevalier, if it were any one but you, I would say one word of courtesy, and we were friends again; but to you, coming from America, where they fight so well, I cannot."
"And I, sir, to you, who the other evening gained the admiration of an entire court by a glorious feat of arms, can only say, M. le Comte, do me the honor to draw your sword."
"Monsieur," said Charny, "I believe we have neither of us touched on the real cause of quarrel."
"I do not understand you, comte."
"Oh! you understand me perfectly, sir; and you blush while you deny it."
"Defend yourself," cried Philippe; their swords crossed. Philippe soon perceived that he was superior to his adversary, and therefore became as calm as though he had been only fencing, and was satisfied with defending himself without attacking.
"You spare me, sir," said Charny; "may I ask why?"
Philippe went on as before; Charny grew warm, and wished to provoke him from this sang froid, therefore he said:
"I told you, sir, that we had not touched on the real cause of the quarrel."
Philippe did not reply.
"The true cause," continued Charny, "why you sought a quarrel, for it was you who sought it, was, that you were jealous of me."
Still Philippe remained silent.
"What is your intention?" again said Charny. "Do you wish to tire my arm? that is a calculation unworthy of you. Kill me if you can, but do not dally thus."
"Yes, sir," replied Philippe at last, "your reproach is just; the quarrel did begin with me, and I was wrong."
"That is not the question now. You have your sword in your hand; use it for something more than mere defense."
"Monsieur," said Philippe, "I have the honor to tell you once more I was wrong, and that I apologize."
But Charny was by this time too excited to appreciate the generosity of his adversary. "Oh!" said he, "I understand; you wish to play the magnanimous with me; that is it, is it not, chevalier? You wish to relate to the ladies this evening how you brought me here, and then spared my life."
"Count," said Philippe, "I fear you are losing your senses."
"You wish to kill M. de Cagliostro to please the queen; and, for the same reason, you wish to turn me into ridicule."
"Ah! this is too much," cried Philippe, "and proves to me that you have not as generous a heart as I thought."
"Pierce it then," cried Charny, exposing himself as Philippe made another pa.s.s.
The sword glanced along his ribs, and the blood flowed rapidly.
"At last," cried Charny, "I am wounded. Now I may kill you if I can."
"Decidedly," said Philippe, "you are mad. You will not kill me--you will only be disabled without cause, and without profit; for no one will ever know for what you have fought;" and as Charny made another pa.s.s, he dexterously sent his sword flying from his hand; then, seizing it, he broke it across his foot. "M. de Charny," said he, "you did not require to prove to me that you were brave; you must therefore detest me very much when you fight with such fury."
Charny did not reply, but grew visibly pale, and then tottered.
Philippe advanced to support him, but he repulsed him, saying, "I can reach my carriage."
"At least take this handkerchief to stop the blood."
"Willingly."
"And my arm, sir; at the least obstacle you met you would fall, and give yourself unnecessary pain."
"The sword has only penetrated the skin. I hope soon to be well."
"So much the better, sir; but I warn you, that you will find it difficult to make me your adversary again."
Charny tried to reply, but the words died on his lips. He staggered, and Philippe had but just time to catch him in his arms, and bear him half fainting to his carriage.
Dauphin, who had seen what had pa.s.sed, advanced to meet him, and they put Charny in.
"Drive slowly," said Philippe, who then took his way back to Paris, murmuring to himself, with a sigh, "She will pity him."
CHAPTER x.x.xII.
THE HOUSE IN THE RUE ST. GILLES.
Philippe jumped into the first coach he saw, and told the man to drive to the Rue St. Gilles, where he stopped at the house of M. de Cagliostro.
A large carriage, with two good horses, was standing in the courtyard; the coachman was asleep, wrapped in a greatcoat of fox-skins, and two footmen walked up and down before the door.