I looked at Silvio with astonishment.  Such a confession completely astounded me.  Silvio continued: 

“Exactly so:  I have no right to expose myself to death.  Six years ago I received a slap in the face, and my enemy still lives.”

My curiosity was greatly excited.

“Did you not fight with him?” I asked.  “Circumstances probably separated you.”

“I did fight with him,” replied Silvio; “and here is a souvenir of our duel.”

Silvio rose and took from a cardboard box a red cap with a gold tassel and embroidery (what the French call a bonnet de police); he put it on—­ a bullet had passed through it about an inch above the forehead.

“You know,” continued Silvio, “that I served in one of the Hussar regiments.  My character is well known to you:  I am accustomed to taking the lead.  From my youth this has been my passion.  In our time dissoluteness was the fashion, and I was the most outrageous man in the army.  We used to boast of our drunkenness; I beat in a drinking bout the famous Bourtsoff [Footnote:  A cavalry officer, notorious for his drunken escapades], of whom Denis Davidoff [Footnote:  A military poet who flourished in the reign of Alexander I] has sung.  Duels in our regiment were constantly taking place, and in all of them I was either second or principal.  My comrades adored me, while the regimental commanders, who were constantly being changed, looked upon me as a necessary evil.

“I was calmly enjoying my reputation, when a young man belonging to a wealthy and distinguished family—­I will not mention his name—­joined our regiment.  Never in my life have I met with such a fortunate fellow!  Imagine to yourself youth, wit, beauty, unbounded gayety, the most reckless bravery, a famous name, untold wealth—­imagine all these, and you can form some idea of the effect that he would be sure to produce among us.  My supremacy was shaken.  Dazzled by my reputation, he began to seek my friendship, but I received him coldly, and without the least regret he held aloof from me.  I took a hatred to him.  His success in the regiment and in the society of ladies brought me to the verge of despair.  I began to seek a quarrel with him; to my epigrams he replied with epigrams which always seemed to me more spontaneous and more cutting than mine, and which were decidedly more amusing, for he joked while I fumed.  At last, at a ball given by a Polish landed proprietor, seeing him the object of the attention of all the ladies, and especially of the mistress of the house, with whom I was upon very good terms, I whispered some grossly insulting remark in his ear.  He flamed up and gave me a slap in the face.  We grasped our swords; the ladies fainted; we were separated; and that same night we set out to fight.