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Updated: May 8, 2025
"Perhaps," said the smooth, slow voice of Captain Freccia, "our silence was caused by the instinctive consciousness of something wrong with our party a little inequality which I dare say our noble host has not thought it worth while to mention." Every head was turned in his direction. "What do you mean?" "What inequality?" "Explain yourself!" chorused several voices.
"Are we ready, gentlemen?" demanded Freccia, with courteous coldness. "Quite ready," was the response. The Marquis D'Avencourt took out his handkerchief. Then Ferrari raised his head and faced me fully for the first time. Great Heaven! shall I ever forget the awful change that came over his pallid countenance the confused mad look of his eyes the startled horror of his expression!
Others around me made similar remarks, and were evidently anxious to show how entirely they were on my side. I however remained silent, lest they should see how gratified I was at the success of my scheme. The marquis addressed me again: "While awaiting the other seconds, who are to find us here," he said, with a glance at his watch, "Freccia and I have arranged a few preliminaries.
I heard the departing footsteps of my guests as they left the hotel by twos and threes I heard the equable voices of the marquis and Captain Freccia ordering hot coffee to be served to them in a private room where they were to await the other seconds now and then I caught a few words of the excited language of the waiters who were volubly discussing the affair as they cleared away the remains of the superb feast at which, though none knew it save myself, death had been seated.
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.
Hearing footsteps approaching, I rose from my kneeling posture and stood erect with folded arms, looking tearlessly down on the stiffening clay before me. The rest of the party came up; no one spoke for a minute, all surveyed the dead body in silence. At last Captain Freccia said, softly in half-inquiring accents: "He is gone, I suppose?" I bowed. I could not trust myself to speak.
He escaped that same night with Scoronconcolo and Freccia to Bologna, where he stayed to dress his thumb, and then passed forward to Venice. Filippo Strozzi there welcomed him as the new Brutus, gave him money, and promised to marry his two sons to the two sisters of the tyrant-killer.
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.
But not at all. Long ago I made up my mind that no man should continue to live who dared to insult me. I therefore studied swordplay as an art. And I assure you it is a simple matter to kill with the sword remarkably simple. My opponents are astonished at the ease with which I dispatch them!" Freccia laughed. "De Hamal is a pupil of yours, marquis, is he not?" "I regret to say yes!
I thereupon rang my bell as a sign that the dinner need no longer be delayed; and, turning to those assembled, I announced to them the unavoidable absence of two of the party. "A pity Francesco could not have come," said Captain Freccia, twirling the ends of his long mustachios. "He loves good wine, and, better still, good company."
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