"Monsieur," cried he, "are you mad, or do you mean to insult me?"
"Monsieur, I wish to make you understand that you annoy me much. It seems to me that you might have seen that without my telling you."
"Not at all, monsieur; I never see what I do not wish to see."
"There are, however, certain things which would attract your attention, I hope, if they shone before your eyes;" and he drew his sword as he spoke, which glittered in the moonlight.
The red plume said quietly, "One would think, monsieur, that you had never drawn a sword before, you are in such a hurry to attack one who does not attack you."
"Why so?" replied the other smiling. "And what right have you to prevent me from walking in the street?"
"Doubtless; are you not also walking here? Have you a license from the king to keep to yourself the Rue de Bussy?"
"A great deal, for I am a faithful subject of the king's, and would not disobey him."
"Heaven and earth! I tell you, you annoy me, monsieur, and that if you do not go away willingly I will make you."
"Monsieur, I have particular business here. Now, if you will have it, I will cross swords with you, but I will not go away."
"Monsieur, I am Comte Henri du Bouchage, brother of the Duc de Joyeuse. Once more, will you yield me the place, and go away?"
"Monsieur," replied the other, "I am the Vicomte Ernanton de Carmainges. You do not annoy me at all, and I do not ask you to go away."
Du Bouchage reflected a moment, and then put his sword back in its sheath.
"Excuse me, monsieur," said he; "I am half mad, being in love."
"And I also am in love, but I do not think myself mad for that."
"Ah! M. du Bouchage, you have not reflected on what you are asking me; you know a gentleman cannot reveal a secret, of which only half belongs to him."
"It is true; pardon, M. de Carmainges; but, in truth, there is no one so unhappy as I am under heaven."
There was so much real grief and eloquent despair in these words, that Ernanton was profoundly touched.
"Oh! mon Dieu! I understand," said he; "you fear that we are rivals."
"I," continued Ernanton, "have a rendezvous."
"What I say. I have an invitation to a rendezvous with a woman, written by a man; it seems she has a secretary."
"I cannot refuse you, monsieur. I will tell you the tenor of the note."