across the cheek, or a cut with your whip.”
“I’m sorry now I didn’t give him one or the other.”
“Well, you may find an opportunity yet. For my quarrel, I don’t care a toss whether it be settled with swords or pistols. We Creoles of Louisiana are accustomed to the use of either weapon. Thanks to old Gardalet of the Rue Royale, I’ve got the trick of both; and am equally ready to send a half-ounce of lead, or twelve inches of steel, through the body of this Britisher. By the way, what’s his name?”
The speaker pulls out the card given him by the English officer, and glancing at it, answers his own question: “Edward Crozier, H.M.S. Crusader.”
“Ha! Mr Ned Crozier!” he exclaims, speaking in plain English, the sight of the card seemingly giving a fresh fillip to his spleen; “you’ve had your triumph to-day. ’Twill be mine to-morrow. And, if my fortune don’t fail me, there’ll be an empty seat at the mess-table of the ship Crusader.”
“You really intend fighting him?”
“Now, Don Faustino Calderon, why do you ask that question?”
“Because I think all might be arranged without – ”
“Without what? Speak out, man!”
“Why, without any spilling of blood.”
“You may arrange it that way, if you like. Your quarrel is a distinct one, and I’ve nothing to do with it – having my own hands full. Indeed, if they were empty, I’m not so sure I should be your second – talking as you do. However, that’s not the purpose now. In answer to your first question, I can only say what I’ve said before. I not only intend fighting this Crozier, but killing him. True, I may fail in my intention; if so, there’s an end of it, and of me. For, once on the ground, I don’t leave it a living man, if he do. One or both of us shall stay there, till we’re carried off – feet-foremost.”
“Carramba! your talk gives one the trembles. It’s not pleasant to think of such things, let alone doing them.”
“Think your own way, and welcome. To me it would be less pleasant to leave them undone; less now, than ever in my life. After what I’ve gone through, I don’t care much for character – in truth, not a straw. That’s all stuff and pretension. Money makes the man, and without it he’s nothing; though he were a saint. Respectability – bah! I don’t value it a claco. But there’s a reputation of another kind I do value, and intend to preserve. Because in my world it counts for something – has counted already.”
“What is that?”
“Courage. Losing it, I should lose everything. And in this very city of San Francisco, I’d be only a hound where I’m now a hunter; barked at by every cur, and kicked by every coward who choose to pick a quarrel with me.”
“There’s no danger of that, Don Francisco. All who have had dealings with you know better. There’s little fear of any one putting a slight upon you.”
“There would be, if I refused to fight this fellow. Then you’d see the difference. Why, Faustino Calderon. I couldn’t sit at our monté table, and keep the red-shirts from robbing us, if they didn’t know ’twould be a dangerous game to play. However, it isn’t their respect I value now, but that of one very different.”
“Of whom?”
“Again you ask an idle question; so idle, that I don’t believe you care a straw for Iñez Alvarez – or know what love is.”
“What has she to do with it?”
“She – nothing. That’s true enough. I don’t care aught for her, or what she might think of me. But I do care for Carmen Montijo; above all things I value her good opinion. At least, so far, that she sha’n’t think me either a fool or a coward. She may be fancying me the first; but if so, she’ll find herself mistaken. At all events, she’ll get convinced I’m not the last. And if it be as rumour reports, and as you say you’ve heard, that she’s given her heart to this gringo, I’ll take care she don’t bestow her hand upon him – not while I live. When I’m dead, she can do as she likes.”
“But after what’s passed, will you ever speak to her again?”
“Ay, that will I – in a way that’ll make her listen to me.”
“But, surely, you don’t still intend proposing to her?”
“Perhaps. Though not till I’ve finished this affair with the fellow who interrupted me. Yes; I’ll give her every chance to save herself. She shall say yea, or nay, in straight speech, and in so many words. After that, I’ll understand how to act. But come! we’re wasting time. A duel’s a thing won’t do to dally over. Do you intend to meet your man, or not?”
“I’d rather not,” replies the poltroon, hesitatingly; “that is, if the thing can be arranged. Do you think it can, De Lara?”
“Of course, it can; your thing, as you call it; though not without disgrace to you. You should fight him, Faustino.”
“Well; if you say I should, why, I suppose I must. I never fired a pistol in my life, and am only second-rate with the sword. I can handle a macheté, or a cuchilla, when occasion calls for it; but these weapons won’t be admitted in a duel between gentlemen. I suppose the sailor fellow claims to be one?”
“Undoubtedly he does, and with good reason. An officer belonging to a British man-of-war would call you out for questioning his claim to the epithet. But I think you underrate your skill with the small-sword. I’ve seen you doing very well with that weapon – at Roberto’s fencing-school.”
“Yes; I took lessons there. But fencing is very different from fighting.”
“Never mind. When you get on the duelling-ground, fancy yourself within the walls of Roberto’s shooting-gallery, and that you are about to take a fresh lesson in the art d’escrime. About all, choose the sword for your weapon.”
“How can I, if I am to be the challenger?”
“You needn’t be. There’s a way to get over that. The English officers are not going straight back to their ship; not likely before a late hour of the night. After returning from their ride, I take it they’ll stay to dinner at Don Gregorio’s; and with wine to give them a start, they’ll be pretty sure to have a cruise, as they call it, through the town. There, you may meet your man; and can insult him, by giving him a cuff, spitting in his face – anything to put the onus of challenging upon him.”
“Por Dios! I’ll do as you say.”
“That’s right. Now let us think of what’s before us. As we are both to be principals, we can’t stand seconds to one another. I know who’ll act for me. Have you got a friend you can call upon?”
“Don Manuel Diaz. He’s the only one I can think of.”
“Don Manuel will do. He’s a cool hand, and knows all the regulations of the duello. But he’s not at home to-day. As I chance to know, he’s gone to a funcion de gallos at Punta Pedro; and by this time should be in the cock-pit.”
“Why can’t we go there? Or had we better send?”
“Better send, I think. Time’s precious
