"Ah! At least there will be no duel at St. Germain this evening."
Scarce had the words fallen from my lips when I saw in the faces of
Montm?dy and St. Auban and half a dozen others the evidence of their
rashness.
"So!" cried St. Auban in a voice that shook with rage. "That was your
object, eh? That you had fallen low, Master de Luynes, I knew, but I
dreamt not that in your fall you had come so low as this."
"You dare?"
"Pardieu! I dare more, Monsieur; I dare tell you--you, Gaston de Luynes,
spy and bravo of the Cardinal--that your object shall be defeated. That,
as God lives, this duel shall still be fought--by me instead of Canaples."
"And I tell you, sir, that as God lives it shall not," I answered with a
vehemence not a whit less than his own. "To you and to what other fools
may think to follow in your footsteps, I say this: that not to-night nor
to-morrow nor the next day shall that duel be fought. Cowards and
poltroons you are, who seek to murder a beardless boy who has injured none
of you! But, by my soul! every man who sends a challenge to that boy will
I at once seek out and deal with as I have dealt with Eug?ne de Canaples.
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