“To the death!” I replied, laughingly.  “He will break his heart if he is not allowed to bind up my wounds!”

“I see you are in good spirits, conte,” remarked Captain Freccia, as we took our seats in the carriage.  “It is always the way with the man who is in the right.  Ferrari, I fear, is not quite so comfortable.”

And he proffered me a cigar, which I accepted.  Just as we were about to start, the fat landlord of the hotel rushed toward us, and laying hold of the carriage door—­“Eccellenza,” he observed in a confidential whisper, “of course this is only a matter of coffee and glorias?  They will be ready for you all on your return.  I know—­I understand!” And he smiled and nodded a great many times, and laid his finger knowingly on the side of his nose.  We laughed heartily, assuring him that his perspicuity was wonderful, and he stood on the broad steps in high good humor, watching us as our vehicle rumbled heavily away.

“Evidently,” I remarked, “he does not consider a duel as a serious affair.”

“Not he!” replied Freccia.  “He has known of too many sham fights to be able to understand a real one.  D’Avencourt knows something about that too, though he always kills his man.  But very often it is sufficient to scratch one another with the sword-point so as to draw a quarter of a drop of blood, and honor is satisfied!  Then the coffee and glorias are brought, as suggested by our friend the landlord.”

“It is a ridiculous age,” said the marquis, taking his cigar from his mouth, and complacently surveying his small, supple white hand, “thoroughly ridiculous, but I determined it should never make a fool of me.  You see, my dear conte, nowadays a duel is very frequently decided with swords rather than pistols, and why?  Because cowards fancy it is much more difficult to kill with the sword.  But not at all.  Long ago I made up my mind that no man should continue to live who dared to insult me.  I therefore studied swordplay as an art.  And I assure you it is a simple matter to kill with the sword—­ remarkably simple.  My opponents are astonished at the ease with which I dispatch them!”

Freccia laughed.  “De Hamal is a pupil of yours, marquis, is he not?”

“I regret to say yes!  He is marvelously clumsy.  I have often earnestly requested him to eat his sword rather than handle it so boorishly.  Yet he kills his men, too, but in a butcher-like manner—­ totally without grace or refinement.  I should say he was about on a par with our two associates, Ferrari’s seconds.”

I roused myself from a reverie into which I had fallen.

“What men are they?” I inquired.

“One calls himself the Capitano Ciabatti, the other Cavaliere Dursi, at your service,” answered Freccia, indifferently.  “Good swearers both and hard drinkers—­filled with stock phrases, such as ’our distinguished dear friend, Ferrari, ’wrongs which can only be wiped out by blood’—­all bombast and braggadocio!  These fellows would as soon be on one side as the other.”