“With this weapon,” I said, “all the disadvantages are on the side of M. de Meilhan; the skilful fencing of his adversary is celebrated among amateurs.  He is one of Pons’s best scholars.”

“Have you brought a surgeon?” said the captain.

“Yes, monsieur, we left Dr. Gillard in a house near by.”

As you see, dear Edgar, I shall lay great stress upon the disadvantages you labored under in using the sword; and, when necessary, I shall express in eloquent terms the agony I felt when I saw your hand, more skilful in handling the pen than the sword, hesitatingly grasp the hilt.

I finished my deposition in these words:  “When the distance had been settled, by casting lots, we handed our principals two swords exactly alike; one of the adverse seconds and myself stood three steps off with our canes raised in order to separate them at all risk, if necessary, in obedience to the characteristically French injunction of the duelling code as laid down by M. Chateunvillard.

“At the given signal the swords were bravely crossed; Edgar, with the boldness of heroic inexperience, bravely attacked his adversary.  Raymond, compelled to defend himself, was astonished.  At this terrible moment, when thought paralyzes action, he was absorbed in thought.  The contest was brief.  Edgar’s sword, only half parried, pierced his rival’s heart.  The surgeon came to gaze upon a lifeless corpse.

“Edgar mounted his horse, rode off and I have not seen him since.  Those who remained rendered the last offices to the dead.”

I am obliged to write you these facts, my dear Edgar, not for information, but to recall them to you in their exact order; and especially, I repeat, in order to avoid contradiction on the witness-stand.  Now I must write you of what you are ignorant.

I had a duty to fulfil, much more terrible than yours, and I was obliged to recall our execrable oath in order to renew courage and strength to keep my promise.

Before we had cast lots for the leading part in this duel, we swore to go ourselves to the house of this woman and announce to her the issue of the combat, if it proved favorable to us.  In the delirium of angry excitement, filling our burning hearts at the moment, this oath appeared to be the most reasonable thing in the world.  Our blood boiled with such violent hatred against him and her that it seemed just for vengeance, with refined cruelty, to step over a corpse and pursue its work ere its second victim had donned her widow’s robes.

Edgar!  Edgar! when I saw that blood flowing, when I saw life and youth converted into an inanimate mass of clay, when you left me alone on this inanimate theatre of death, my feelings underwent a sudden revolution; this moment seemed to age me a half a century, and without lessening my hatred, only left me a confused perception of it, with a vague memory full of disenchantment and sadness.

The crime was great, it is true, but what a terrible expiation!  What hellish torture heaped upon him at once!  To lose all at the point of the sword, all!—­youth, fortune, love, wife, celestial joys, beautiful nature and the light of the sun!