A visit to a dancer, a brute professing to be a nobleman, who insults her
in my presence, who wants to kill her, who allows her to be carried off
in his very teeth, and whose only opposition is to give me an
appointment! It seemed to me that if I had failed to come, I should have
given him the right to call me a coward.

The count had not yet arrived. I entered the coffee-room to wait for him.
I met a good-looking Frenchman there, and I addressed him. Being pleased
with his conversation, I told him that I expected the arrival of a man,
and that as my honour required that he should find me alone I would feel
grateful if he would go away as soon as I saw the man approaching. A
short time afterwards I saw my adversary coming along, but with a second.
I then told the Frenchman that he would oblige me by remaining, and he
accepted as readily as if I had invited him to a party of pleasure. The
count came in with his follower, who was sporting a sword at least forty
inches long, and had all the look of a cut-throat. I advanced towards the
count, and said to him dryly,--

"You told me that you would come alone."

"My friend will not be in the way, as I only want to speak to you."

"If I had known that, I would not have gone out of my way. But do not let
us be noisy, and let us go to some place where we can exchange a few
words without being seen. Follow me."

I left the coffee-room with the young Frenchman, who, being well
acquainted with the place, took me to the most favourable spot, and we
waited there for the two other champions, who were walking slowly and
talking together. When they were within ten paces I drew my sword and