VII
"As I turned to go he said: 'May I ask you to sit down? Now that Iknow you to be of your legation, and I being, as you are aware, in theForeign Office, an affair between us would be for both servicesunadvisable. Having left myself in the hands of my friends, I am nowdoing, as you will understand, an unusual thing; but whatever may bethe result, I feel that, as a gentleman, you will hold me excused.There _was_ a woman in your carriage. Of course our police found thecabman and got it out of him. I have no direct personal interest inher--none; nor can I explain myself further. I regret that in theannoyance of my failure to effect my purpose I was guilty of a gravediscourtesy. If you had told me that you would send your seconds tome to-day, I should have felt that you were fully justified. I canvery well afford to say that I owe you an apology; and, fortunately,my friends will have learned that I sent them to the wrong man andwill return for instructions. If, however, you feel--'
"'Oh, no,' I said; 'pardon me, I am quite willing to forget anunfortunate incident, and to add that the lady, by the merestaccident, took shelter from the rain in my carriage. I never met herbefore.'
"I saw at once that he had a look of what I took to be relief. Hesmiled, became quite cordial, and when I added that whatever I mighthave said or done the night before was really unavoidable, he returnedthat it was quite true that he had been hasty, and that, as he hadsaid very little to his friends, it would rest between us.
"As I rose to go, I could not help saying that the remarkably goodlooks of the woman made my conduct the more excusable.
"'Yes,' he said; 'at least she is handsome, but--' and here he pausedand then added, 'I hope before long to have the pleasure of presentingyou to my wife.'
"I thanked him."
"One moment," said Merton, "before you go on. It is clear that thewoman is a lady; that he was wildly eager to catch her, and especiallyat that time; that, being foiled, he lost his temper; that he believesyou, or makes believe to do so; and, finally, that he is sensibleenough to know that a duel with an American secretary is undesirable.You let him off easy."
"I did, but I had the same kind of reason to avoid a hostile meetingthat he has. Moreover, he is really a charming fellow, and it musthave cost him something to apologize."
"But about the woman who set all these pots a-boiling--I beg pardon,simmering--"
"Oh, the woman. I hope I may never see her again."
"You will. That fellow Alphonse will find her."
"I hope not. But what a mess! _cherchez la femme!_"
"That we must do," laughed Merton. "The mosquitoes illustrate theproverb: only the females bite. Good, that, isn't it? But what next? Iinterrupted you. You are out of it, but where do I come in? What aboutPorthos and that little red weasel Aramis?"
"And D'Artagnan?" I laughed.
"If you like, Greville. You are complimentary. Was that all?"
"No. The count said, 'I will at once write to Captain Merton andapologize, but I fancy my friends have already done so.' I was aboutto take leave of the count when in walked the baron, behind thebiggest mustache in Paris, a ponderous person. 'Shade of Dumas!' Imuttered; 'Porthos! Porthos!' Behind him was a much-made-up littlefellow, the colonel--your Aramis."
"Oh, drop him. He is what the arithmeticians call a negligiblequantity. What next?"
"The count said, 'Allow me to present M. Greville of the AmericanLegation--the Baron la Garde, my cousin, and the Colonel St. Pierre.'We bowed, and the count said, 'M. Greville is somewhat concerned inthe affair in which you have been so kind as to act for me.'
"The two gentlemen looked a little bewildered, but bowed again and satdown, while the count added: 'You may speak freely. I suppose M.Merton explained that he was not the person.'"
"Oh, by all that's jolly! what a situation for the stage! A match,please. What next?"
"The baron spoke first. 'I do not understand you, my dear count.'
"The count said: 'Why not? It was very simple. I presume you to havesaid that you regretted the mistake, and then I suppose you apologizedand came away to report to me. I am sorry to have sent you on afruitless errand. Kindly tell us what passed.'
"The colonel sat up, and, as I thought, was a little embarrassed. Hesaid: 'With your permission, baron, I shall have the honor to relateour conversation. We put the matter, count, as you desired. You hadbeen insulted. What explanation had M. Merton to offer? Then thisamazing American said that it was not true that he had insulted you;that he had not given you his card; that he had never seen you; thatit was a droll mistake--"that you were unfortunate in your friends." Ithink I am correct, baron?'
"'Yes. I so understood it.'
"'Then you said, as I recall it, baron, that--that--there was onlyone word to apply to a man who could insult another and try to escapethe consequences. Then he said--well, to cut it short, he would sendhis friends to us, and that, as he was the challenged party, it wouldsave time if he now declared it must be rifles--or revolvers--or, yes,what he called bowie. What that is I know not.'"
"Lovely!" murmured Merton. "Go on."
"I explained to the count's friends that the bowie was a big knifewith which our Western gentlemen chopped one another. The count satstill, with a look of repressed mirth, I choking with the fun of it,Aramis fidgeting, the baron swelling with rage. The count asked ifthat were all.
"Aramis went on: 'When I assured M. Merton that the methods proposedwere barbarous, he made himself unpleasant, and I was forced to saythat his language was of such incorrectness--in fact, so monstrousthat as a French soldier I held him personally responsible. Theanimal assured me that when he was through with you and the baron, hewould attend to my own case. I grieve to admit, count, that our friendthe baron, usually so amiable, had previously lost his temper. Thatwas when our brigand proposed revolvers and the knife-bowie, and saidwe were difficult.'
"'I did,' said the baron; 'I, who am all that there is of amiable.Yes, I lost my temper.' He stood up as he went on. 'I said it wasuncivilized, that it was no jest, but a grave matter. _Mon Dieu!_ Thatman, he told me that we fought with knitting-needles, that our duelswere baby-play--me--me--he said that to me! What could I reply? I saidI should ask him to retract. That man laughed--_a faire peur_--theroom shook. Then he said to excuse him, it was--so what he called"damn nonsense." I think, colonel, I am correct? What means that, M.Greville--damn nonsense?'
"'English for very interesting,' said I, not wishing to aggravate thesituation.
"'Ah, thanks,' said Aramis. 'This American he was pleasant of asudden, and would be happy to hear from us all. He did regret that Icame third, but that after he had killed you and the baron he would bemost happy to kill me. _Mon Dieu!_ we shall see. It remains to awaithis friends. I shall kill him.'
"'Pardon me,' said the baron; 'he belongs to me.'
"Meanwhile the count's face was a study. What it cost him not toexplode into laughter I shall never guess except by my knowledge ofthe internal convulsions of my own organs of mirth. But Athos--I likehim. He said at last very quietly: 'Here, gentlemen, are threeduels--a fair morning's work. May I ask you, M. Greville, if you knowCaptain Merton? I mean well.'"
"Lord, what a chance! What did you say?"
"I saw what he meant, and said you were a captain in our army, hadbeen twice wounded, and were here to recruit your health; that youwere of first force with the rifle and revolver, but knew nothing ofthe small sword.
"The baron's shoulders were lifted and he spread out huge hands ofdisgust. 'But these weapons are impossible. Only a semi-civilizedpeople could desire to employ the weapons of savages.'
"'Pardon me,' I said; 'I presume that the rifle and revolver are bothused in your service; and, also, may I ask you to remember that I,too, am an American?'
"'That does not alter my opinion. If monsieur--'
"'Oh, stop, stop!' cried the count. 'M. Greville is my guest. He willallow me to reply. Do you mean to create four duels in a day? My dearcousin will recall his words.'
"'My dear cousin' did not like i
t, but said stiffly, 'So far as M.Greville is concerned, I withdraw them.'
"I bowed and said: 'Permit me, count. These gentlemen, as it seems tome, have put you and themselves in the position of challengers, whicheverywhere gives to the challenged party the right to choose hisweapon. As M. Merton's friends will abide by his decision, your ownseconds must, I fancy, accept what is or would be usual with us. Theyhave no choice except to decline and allow their refusal to be madepublic, as it will be, or to choose one of the three weapons sogenerously offered.'
"The baron glared at me, the colonel was silent, and the count said:'M. Greville is correct. I regret to have been the means of puttingyou in a false position. M. Greville has come to explain to me that inthe darkness of the night, when our vehicles came together and we saidsome angry words, he gave me by mistake the card of M. le CapitaineMerton. M. Greville and I--you will pardon me--have amicably arrangedour little trouble, as I shall tell you more fully.'"
"Oh, joy!" cried Merton; "close of fourth act. Every one on butD'Artagnan and the woman. Athos, Porthos, Aramis! What next? Was thereever anything more dramatically all that could be desired? What next?"
"The count was very pleasant, and thought only a little explanationwas required to reconcile his friends and the captain. This by nomeans satisfied Porthos.
"The baron said he would fight with a cannon if necessary, and hewill. Aramis is degenerate. He observed that it would requireconsideration. Then the count said: 'The captain's ideas are certainlysomewhat original, and why not leave it to M. Greville and me and suchothers as we may choose?'
"I was well pleased. Whether they were or not, I cannot tell. Theysaid, however, a variety of agreeable nothings, and I am to see thecount to-morrow. He kept Porthos and Aramis and, I suspect, gave thetwo fools a lecture."
"Well, well," said Merton. "When I left the regiment I thought I wasout of the world of adventure."
"Oh, this is comic opera. I do not suppose that you really want tofight these idiots."
"No; but I will, if they desire to be thus amused. Otherwise therewill have to be some word-eating. I was not bluffing."
"Porthos will stick it out. You won't be too stiff-necked, I trust."
"Oh, no. I leave myself in your hands--I mean absolutely; and I wantalso to say, Greville, that this queer affair ought to make usfriends."
"It has," I returned with warmth. "You dine with the minister nextweek, I believe."
"Yes, Monday."
We talked for a few minutes of the campaigns at home, and then hereturned to the subject which just now more immediately interestedhim. "What about that woman? I have an impression that we are not atthe end, but at the beginning, of an adventure. Are you not curious?"
"Yes, I am, and my curiosity has ripened. There may be some politicsin the matter, just as you say. If, as is barely possible, it is ourinternational affairs that are involved, it is my duty to follow it upand to know more. But how to follow it up? In what way an unknownAmerican lady can be concerned in them, I am unable to imagine. This,however, is, I think, certain, the count did not want to be involvedin an affair of honor about this lady. We were to be supposed to havequarreled over cards. He wanted her to disappear from the scene. Butwhy?"
"Well, it is late," said Merton, looking at the clock. "Good night. Ishall stay at home to-morrow until I hear from you and the count."
I may add that Merton at once accepted the count's explanation andcalled on him. The affair of Baron Porthos and my friend proved moredifficult. Both declined to apologize. Somehow, it got out at theclubs, and Paris was gaily amused over paragraphs about the Wild Westman who would fight only with the knife-bowie. Merton was furious, andI had hard work to keep him within bounds.
Meanwhile the count and another gentleman met me, a friend of mine,Lieutenant West, a naval officer, and made vain efforts to bring aboutpeace or a duel with swords; at which Merton only laughed, saying thatwhen he went "a-cat-fishing, he went a-cat-fishing," a piece ofnational wisdom which I found myself incompetent to make clear to myFrench friends. Aramis was easier to manage than his namesake.Meanwhile, our minister was very much troubled over the matter, andthe count hardly less so. But Porthos was as inexorable as hisnamesake, and Merton merely obstinate. It was what the count describedas an _impasse_.