"Thirty-five yards." ...
I could not lift him up, of course; but I rolled him over,
and poured water down his back. He presently came to,
and said:
"Thirty-five yards - without a rest? But why ask? Since
murder was that man's intention, why should he palter
with small details? But mark you one thing: in my fall
the world shall see how the chivalry of France meets death."
After a long silence he asked:
"Was nothing said about that man's family standing
up with him, as an offset to my bulk? But no matter;
I would not stoop to make such a suggestion; if he is
not noble enough to suggest it himself, he is welcome
to this advantage, which no honorable man would take."
He now sank into a sort of stupor of reflection,
which lasted some minutes; after which he broke silence with:
"The hour - what is the hour fixed for the collision?"
"Dawn, tomorrow."
He seemed greatly surprised, and immediately said:
"Insanity! I never heard of such a thing. Nobody is
abroad at such an hour."
"That is the reason I named it. Do you mean to say you
want an audience?"
"It is no time to bandy words. I am astonished that M. Fourtou
should ever have agreed to so strange an innovation.
Go at once and require a later hour."
I ran downstairs, threw open the front door, and almost
plunged into the arms of M. Fourtou's second.
