The next day after dinner I left Marina getting ready for the theatre, and having put everything of value I possessed in my pocket, I took a carriage and proceeded to the Casino of Pomi.  I felt confident of disabling the false count, and sent the carriage away.  I was conscious of being guilty of great folly in exposing my life with such an adversary.  I might have broken my engagement with him without implicating my honour, but, the fact is that I felt well disposed for a fight, and as I was certainly in the right I thought the prospect of a duel very delightful.  A visit to a dancer, a brute professing to be a nobleman, who insults her in my presence, who wants to kill her, who allows her to be carried off in his very teeth, and whose only opposition is to give me an appointment!  It seemed to me that if I had failed to come, I should have given him the right to call me a coward.

The count had not yet arrived.  I entered the coffee-room to wait for him.  I met a good-looking Frenchman there, and I addressed him.  Being pleased with his conversation, I told him that I expected the arrival of a man, and that as my honour required that he should find me alone I would feel grateful if he would go away as soon as I saw the man approaching.  A short time afterwards I saw my adversary coming along, but with a second.  I then told the Frenchman that he would oblige me by remaining, and he accepted as readily as if I had invited him to a party of pleasure.  The count came in with his follower, who was sporting a sword at least forty inches long, and had all the look of a cut-throat.  I advanced towards the count, and said to him dryly,—­

“You told me that you would come alone.”

“My friend will not be in the way, as I only want to speak to you.”

“If I had known that, I would not have gone out of my way.  But do not let us be noisy, and let us go to some place where we can exchange a few words without being seen.  Follow me.”

I left the coffee-room with the young Frenchman, who, being well acquainted with the place, took me to the most favourable spot, and we waited there for the two other champions, who were walking slowly and talking together.  When they were within ten paces I drew my sword and called upon my adversary to get ready.  My Frenchman had already taken out his sword, but he kept it under his arm.

“Two to one!” exclaimed Celi.

“Send your friend away, and this gentleman will go likewise; at all events, your friend wears a sword, therefore we are two against two.”

“Yes,” said the Frenchman, “let us have a four-handed game.”

“I do not cross swords with a dancer,” said the cutthroat.

He had scarcely uttered those words when my friend, going up to him, told him that a dancer was certainly as good as a blackleg, and gave him a violent bow with the flat of his sword on the face.  I followed his example with Celi, who began to beat a retreat, and said that he only wanted to tell me something, and that he would fight afterwards.