I knew that there we should not be interrupted.
As I waited for De Berquin to precede me, I chanced to look at
Blaise. A strange, thoughtful expression was on his face. He, too,
stood quite still.
De Berquin looked at my face for a moment longer, then seemed to realize
the hopelessness of his attempt to make me credit his accusation,
shrugged his shoulders and said, courteously:
"As you will, monsieur!"
And he walked before me around the side of the chateau to the bare
space in the garden. Blaise, having received no orders, did not presume
to follow.
We took off our doublets and other encumbrances, De Berquin raising his
sheathed sword and very gracefully unsheathing by throwing the scabbard
off into the air, so that it fell some distance away in the garden.
Twice before that night it had been shown that I was the more skilful
swordsman, yet now he stood without the least sign of fear. If he had
formerly retreated, on being disarmed, it was from situations in which he
had figured ridiculously, and could not endure to remain before
Mademoiselle de Varion. Also, he had sought to preserve his life, so that
he might have revenge. But now that events had taken their turn, he
showed himself not afraid to face death.
"It is a pity," I said, "that a brave man should be so great a liar."
"Rather," he said, "that so brave a man"--and his look showed that he
alluded to me--"should be so easily fooled; and that so fair a woman
should be so vile a traitor.
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