M. de Vilmorin had realized nothing. The poor young man had acted
upon impulse, upon the instinct of decency and honour, never
counting the consequences. But he realized them now at the sinister
invitation of M. de Chabrillane, and if he desired to avoid these
consequences, it was out of respect for his priestly vocation, which
strictly forbade such adjustments of disputes as M. de Chabrillane
was clearly thrusting upon him.

He drew back. "Let one affront wipe out the other," said he, in a
dull voice. "The balance is still in M. le Marquis's favour. Let
that content him."

"Impossible." The Chevalier's lips came together tightly.
Thereafter he was suavity itself, but very firm. "A blow has been
struck, monsieur. I think I am correct in saying that such a thing
has never happened before to M. le Marquis in all his life. If you
felt yourself affronted, you had but to ask the satisfaction due
from one gentleman to another. Your action would seem to confirm
the assumption that you found so offensive. But it does not on that
account render you immune from the consequences."

It was, you see, M. de Chabrillane's part to heap coals upon this
fire, to make quite sure that their victim should not escape them.

"I desire no immunity," flashed back the young seminarist, stung by
this fresh goad. After all, he was nobly born, and the traditions
of his class were strong upon him - stronger far than the seminarist
schooling in humility. He owed it to himself, to his honour, to be
killed rather than avoid the consequences of the thing he had done.