Be angry as      You will, it shall have scope;
     Ah, Cassius, you are yoked¹ with a lamb
     That carries anger, as the flint bears fire—
     Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
     And straight is cold again.
     And from henceforth
     When you are over earnest with your brother,
     He’ll think your mother chides², and leave you so.
     —Shakespeare
Our readers will perhaps have been surprised, that after the violent manner in which Paul had insulted Lectoure the day before, a meeting had not been appointed for the following morning; but Lieutenant³ Walter, who had been commissioned to regulate the conditions of the duel⁴, together with Count d’Auray, had received from his commander directions to make every concession⁵, saving on one point, and this was, that Paul would not meet Lectoure until the afternoon.
 
The reason for this was, that the young captain felt, that until the time arrived when he should have wound up this strange drama, in which, having in the first instance mingled⁶ only as a stranger, he at last found himself in the position of the head of the family, his life belonged not to himself, and that he had not the right to risk it. Moreover, as we have seen, the delay he had fixed⁷ was not a long one; and Lectoure, who was ignorant of the reason which could have induced his adversary⁸ to require it, had acceded⁹ to it without much difficulty.
 
Paul had therefore determined¹⁰ not to lose a moment, and therefore, as soon as the hour arrived at which he could, with propriety¹¹, present himself to the marchioness, he bent¹² his steps towards the castle.
 
The events of the previous evening, and of that day also, had occasioned so much confusion in the stately residence, that he entered it without meeting a single servant to announce him. He nevertheless traversed the apartments, following the direction he had before twice taken, and on going into the drawing-room, found Marguerite lying fainting on the floor.
 
On seeing the contract lying on the table, and his sister deprived of consciousness, Paul readily imagined that a dreadful scene must have taken place between the marchioness and her daughter. He ran to Marguerite, raised her in his arms, and opened one of the windows to give her air. The state in which Marguerite then was, proceeded more from a complete prostration¹⁴ of strength, than an actual fainting fit; and therefore, as soon as she felt that assistance was being rendered her, and with a kindness, which left no doubt as to the feelings of the person who had thus endeavored to relieve her, she opened her eyes, and recognized her brother, that living Providence¹⁵, whom God had sent to sustain her every time she felt she was about to succumb¹⁶.
 
Marguerite related to Paul, that her mother had endeavored to compel her to sign the contract, in order to get her to leave the castle with her brother, and that having been overcome by her grief, and carried away by the dreadful situation in which she was placed, she had allowed her mother to perceive that she knew all.
 
Paul comprehended at once the feelings which must have rent the heart of the marchioness, who, after twenty years of silence, isolation¹⁷ and anguish¹⁸, saw, without being able to divine the manner in which it had been brought about, that in one moment her secret had been revealed to one of the two persons, from whom she was most anxious to conceal¹⁹ it. Therefore, compassionating²⁰ the sufferings of his mother, he resolved to terminate them as speedily as he could, by hastening on the interview he had come to seek, and which would at once enlighten her as to the intentions of that son, whose existence she was so unwilling²¹ to acknowledge, Marguerite, on her side, wished to obtain her mother’s forgiveness; she, therefore, undertook to inform the marchioness that the young captain waited her orders.
 
Paul, therefore, remained alone, leaning against the high chimney-piece, above which was carved the escutcheon of his family, and began to lose himself in the thoughts, which the successive and hurried events of the last few hours gave rise to, and which had rendered him the sovereign arbiter²² of all that house, when one of the side doors suddenly opened, and Emanuel appeared with a case of pistols in his hand. On hearing the door open, Paul turned his eyes toward them, and immediately perceiving the young man, bowed to him with that sweet and fraternal expression, which reflected in his features the serenity²³ of his soul.
 
Emanuel, on the contrary, although he returned the salutation, as politeness required, allowed those hostile feelings which the presence of the man whom he regarded as his personal and determined enemy had awakened²⁴ to flush his features, and they instantly assumed a look of fierce defiance²⁵.
 
“I was on the point of setting out to seek for you, sir,” said Emanuel, placing the pistols upon the table, and remaining at some distance from Paul; “and that, however, without precisely²⁶ knowing where to find you; for, like the evil genii of our popular traditions, you appear to have the gift of being every where, and nowhere. But a servant informed me that he had seen you enter the castle, and I thank you for having saved me the trouble I was about to take, in thus anticipating my desire.”
 
“I am happy,” replied Paul, “that my desire in this instance, although probably emanating²⁷ from a totally different cause, has so harmoniously²⁸ chimed in with yours. Well, then, I am here—what do you ask of me?”
 
“Cannot you divine even that, sir?” replied Emanuel, with increasing agitation²⁹. “In that case—and you will allow me to express my astonishment³⁰ that it should be so—you are but ill-informed as to the duties of a gentleman and an officer, and this is a fresh insult that you put upon me.”
 
“Believe me, Emanuel,” rejoined Paul, in a calm tone—
 
“I yesterday called myself the count; to-day I call myself the Marquis d’Auray,” said Emanuel, interrupting him with a gesture of haughtiness³¹ and contempt; “and I beg, sir, that you will not forget it.”
 
An almost imperceptible smile passed over the lips of Paul.
 
“I was saying, then,” continued Emanuel, “that you but imperfectly comprehend the feelings of a gentleman, if you believed that I would permit another to take up, on my behalf, a quarrel which you came here to seek. Yes, sir, for it is you who have thrown yourself across my path, and not I who have sought you.”
 
“His lordship, the Marquis d’Auray,” said Paul, smiling, “forgets his visit on board the Indienne.”
 
“A truce³³ to your cavils³⁴, sir, and let us at once proceed to facts. Yesterday, I know not from what strange and inexplicable³⁵ feeling, when I proposed to you that, which I will not say every gentleman, every officer, but simply, any man of courage would instantly, and without hesitation³⁶, have acceded to, you refused, sir, and evading³⁷ my provocation³⁸, you went, as it were, behind my back to seek an adversary, who, although not precisely a stranger to the quarrel, yet good taste should have dictated³⁹ that he ought not to have been drawn⁴⁰ into it.”
 
“Believe me, that in this, sir,” replied Paul, with the calmness and the same candor⁴¹ of manner which had accompanied all he said; I was compelled to yield to the exigency⁴² of the case, which did not leave me the choice of an adversary. You had proposed a duel, which I could not accept, you being my adversary, but which was perfectly³² indifferent to me with any other person. I am too much habituated to encounters of this description, and to encounters of a far more murderous and mortal nat............