I would have met him sword
in hand, but the Chevalier has the fault of the very young - he is
precipitate; he was in too great a haste, and he could not wait
until I got a sword. So I was forced to do what I could with a cane."
"But you provoked him," she flashed back.
"Whoever told you so has misinformed you, madame. On the contrary,
he provoked me. He gave me the lie. I struck him - could I do
less? - and he drew. I defended myself, and I supplemented my
defence by a caning, so that this poor Saint-Eustache might realize
the unworthiness of what he had done. That is all, madame."
But she was not so easily to be appeased, not even when Mademoiselle
and the Vicomte joined their voices to mine in extenuation of my
conduct. It was like Lavedan. For all that he was full of dread
of the result and of the vengeance Saint-Eustache might wreak - boy
though he was - he expressed himself freely touching the Chevalier's
behaviour and the fittingness of the punishment that had overtaken
him.
The Vicomtesse stood in small awe of her husband, but his judgment
upon a point of honour was a matter that she would not dare contest.
She was ministering to the still prostrate Chevalier who, I think,
remained prostrate now that he might continue to make appeal to her
sympathy - when suddenly she cut in upon Roxalanne's defence of me.
"Where have you been?" she demanded suddenly.
"When, my mother?"
"This afternoon," answered the Vicomtesse impatiently.
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