“Nor I!” said the duke, stiffly.

“Nor I!” said Mancini.

“Surely,” said Luziana Salustri, “Ferrari will make the amende honorable.”

There was a pause.  Each man looked at Ferrari with some anxiety.  The suddenness of the quarrel had sobered the whole party more effectually than a cold douche.  Ferrari’s face grew more and more livid till his very lips turned a ghastly blue—­he laughed aloud in bitter scorn.  Then, walking steadily up to me, with his eyes full of baffled vindictiveness, he said, in a low clear tone: 

“You say that—­you say she never cared for me—­you! and I am to apologize to you!  Thief, coward, traitor—­take that for my apology!” And he struck me across the mouth with his bare hand so fiercely that the diamond ring he wore (my diamond ring) cut my flesh and slightly drew blood.  A shout of anger broke from all present!  I turned to the Marquis D’Avencourt.

“There can be but one answer to this,” I said, with indifferent coldness.  “Signor Ferrari has brought it on himself.  Marquis, will you do me the honor to arrange the affair?”

The marquis bowed, “I shall be most happy!”

Ferrari glared about him for a moment and then said, “Freccia, you will second me?”

Captain Freccia shrugged his shoulders.  “You must positively excuse me,” he said.  “My conscience will not permit me to take up such a remarkably wrong cause as yours, cara mio!  I shall be pleased to act with D’Avencourt for the count, if he will permit me.”  The marquis received him with cordiality, and the two engaged in earnest conversation.  Ferrari next proffered his request to his quondam friend De Hamal, who also declined to second him, as did every one among the company.  He bit his lips in mortification and wounded vanity, and seemed hesitating what to do next, when the marquis approached him with frigid courtesy and appeared to offer him some suggestions in a low tone of voice—­for after a few minutes’ converse, Ferrari suddenly turned on his heel and abruptly left the room without another word or look.  At the same instant I touched Vincenzo, who, obedient to his orders, had remained an impassive but evidently astonished spectator of all that had passed, and whispered—­“Follow that man and do not let him see you.”  He obeyed so instantly that the door had scarcely closed upon Ferrari when Vincenzo had also disappeared.  The Marquis D’Avencourt now came up to me.

“Your opponent has gone to find two seconds,” he said.  “As you perceived, no one here would or could support him.  It is a most unfortunate affair.”

“Most unfortunate,” chorused De Hamal, who, though not in it, appeared thoroughly to enjoy it.

“For my part,” said the Duke di Marina, “I wonder how our noble friend could be so lenient with such a young puppy.  His conceit is insufferable!”

Others around me made similar remarks, and were evidently anxious to show how entirely they were on my side.  I however remained silent, lest they should see how gratified I was at the success of my scheme.  The marquis addressed me again: