“It is unfortunate that we cannot seem to meet,” said Sir Henry, struggling to control himself.
“I am bereaved, Monsieur de Heywood. Perhaps to-morrow.”
“To-morrow?” broke in Heywood, violently. “There may be no to-morrow. I will meet you to-night, monsieur, here--now--at this very spot!” He nervously fingered the laces at his throat.
Mornay paused a moment. “Monsieur de Heywood would violate the hospitality--”
“Yes,” interrupted Heywood, “we shall have no constables here--”
“Enough! Will you fight, or shall I--” He made a movement towards Mornay. There came so dangerous a flash in the Frenchman’s eyes that Heywood stopped. Mornay drew back a step and put his hand upon his sword.
“At last,” sneered Heywood--“at last you understand.”
Mornay shrugged his shoulders as though absolving himself from all responsibility.
“_Eh bien_,” he said. “It shall be as you wish.”
There had been so many duels with fatal results in London during the last few months that it was as much as a man’s life was worth to engage in one, either as principal or second. But this affair admitted of no delay, and Ferrers and Wynne had so deep a dislike for Mornay that they would have risked much to see him killed. Wynne found Captain Cornbury, who hailed with joy the opportunity of returning Mornay a service the Frenchman had twice rendered him. The gentlemen removed their periwigs, coats, and laces, and when Captain Ferrers returned, the game began.
It was soon discovered that Monsieur Mornay had a great superiority in the reach, and he disarmed his elderly opponent immediately. It was child’s play. Almost before the Baronet had taken his weapon in hand it flew to the ground again. With this he lost his temper, and, throwing his seconds aside, sprang upon the Frenchman furiously. A very myriad of lunges and thrusts flashed about Monsieur Mornay, and before the seconds knew what had happened the Baronet seemed to rush upon the point of the Frenchman’s sword, which passed into his body.
Ferrers and Cornbury ran forward and caught the wounded man in their arms, while Wynne, seeing that he still breathed, ran without further ado to the house in search of aid. Monsieur Mornay alone stood erect. As Cornbury rose to his feet the Frenchman asked: