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It had been sent by the Marquis D'Avencourt, accompanied by a courteous letter, which informed me that Ferrari's body had been privately buried with all the last religious rites in the cemetery, "close to the funeral vault of the Romani family," wrote D'Avencourt, "as, from all we can hear or discover, such seems to have been his own desire.
His lips moved as though he were about to utter an exclamation he staggered. "One!" cried D'Avencourt. We raised our weapons. "Two!" The scared and bewildered expression of Ferrari's face deepened visibly as he eyed me steadily in taking aim. I smiled proudly I gave him back glance for glance I saw him waver his hand shook. "Three!" and the white handkerchief fluttered to the ground.
D'Avencourt knows something about that too, though he always kills his man. But very often it is sufficient to scratch one another with the sword-point so as to draw a quarter of a drop of blood, and honor is satisfied! Then the coffee and glorias are brought, as suggested by our friend the landlord."
The Marquis D'Avencourt took me by the arm and whispered, "Get back to the city, amico, and take some wine you look positively ill! Your evident regret does you credit, considering the circumstances but what would you? it was a fair fight. Consider the provocation you had! I should advise you to leave Naples for a couple of weeks by that time the affair will be forgotten.
Every now and then might be heard the smooth voice of Captain Freccia rolling out his favorite oaths with the sonority and expression of a primo tenore; sometimes the elegant French of the Marquis D'Avencourt, with his high, sing-song Parisian accent, rang out above the voices of the others; and again, the choice Tuscan of the poet Luziano Salustri rolled forth in melodious cadence as though he were chanting lines from Dante or Ariosto, instead of talking lightly on indifferent matters.
With regard to the packet inclosed, D'Avencourt continued "The accompanying letters were found in Ferrari's breast-pocket, and on opening the first one, in the expectation of finding some clew as to his last wishes, we came to the conclusion that you, as the future husband of the lady whose signature and handwriting you will here recognize, should be made aware of the contents, not only for your own sake, but in justice to the deceased.
You, for instance," turning to the Marquis D'Avencourt, "would scarce know what to do with your time." The marquis smiled and waved his hand with a deprecatory gesture that hand, by the by, was remarkably small and delicately formed it looked almost fragile.
He looked up suddenly. "Go on, conte I am all impatience. Who comes next?" "More fire-eaters, I suppose you will call them," I answered, "and French fire-eaters, too. Monsieur le Marquis D'Avencourt, and le beau Capitaine Eugene de Hamal." Ferrari looked astonished. "Per Bacco!" he exclaimed. "Two noted Paris duelists! Why what need have you of such valorous associates?
Captain Freccia argued the niceties of sword-play with the Marquis D'Avencourt, both speakers illustrating their various points by thrusting their dessert-knives skillfully into the pulpy bodies of the peaches they had on their plates.
Two days after it had been made public, while sauntering across the Largo del Castello, I met the Marquis D'Avencourt. I had not seen him since the morning of the duel, and his presence gave me a sort of nervous shock. He was exceedingly cordial, though I fancied he was also slightly embarrassed After a few commonplace remarks he said, abruptly: "So your marriage will positively take place?"
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