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Updated: June 29, 2025
De Mézy looked puzzled, but at that moment de Courcelles and de Jumonville, wearing uniforms of white and silver, came forward to add their greeting to those of the count. They were all courtesy and the words dropped from their lips like honey, but Robert felt that their souls were not like the soul of de Galisonnière, and that they could not be counted among the honnêtes gens.
Half way through the dinner and the door was thrown open, admitting a gorgeous figure and a great gust of words. It was a young man in a brilliant uniform, his hair long, perfumed, powdered and curled, and his face flushed. Robert recognized him at once as that same Count Jean de Mézy who had passed them in the flying carriage.
"Unless Captain de Mézy insists on another trial," said de Galisonnière, smiling a little, "but if he will take the advice of a countryman of his he will let the matter rest where it is. Enough has been done to satisfy the honor of everybody." He and Nemours exchanged significant glances.
He knew that his words uttered now would soon reach the ears of Jean de Mézy, and it was worth while to be considered a miraculous swordsman. He had read the count's mind when he stood at his elbow, shuddering a little at the thought that a prodigy with the blade might be sitting there, and he was resolved to make the thought return once more and stay.
He could hardly expect that a monarch who was doing his best to crush out the last vestige of representative government in France would welcome its establishment and encouragement by one of his own officials in the New World. But Mézy did not live to obey the recall which speedily came from the King as the outcome of this indiscretion. In the spring of 1665 he was taken ill and died at Quebec.
They were not interrupted until Monsieur Berryer bowed before them and asked if they would have any more refreshment. "No, thank you," said Robert, and then he added, as if by afterthought, although he did not take his eyes from the buttons: "What sort of a man at sword play is this de Mézy?" "Very good! Very good, sir," replied the innkeeper, "that is if his eyes and head are clear."
"And now, Monsieur Boucher," continued Willet, "the quicker the better. Mr. Lennox will be my second and I recommend that you choose for yours one of three gentlemen, Colonel de Courcelles, Count de Mézy or the Captain de Jumonville, all of whom conspired to lead a boy into this garden and to his death." The faces of the three became livid.
"It's the feeling of a friend, but don't worry. A few of us in the English colonies do know the use of the sword, and at the very head of them I should place David Willet, whom you know and who is with us." "But de Mézy is not going to fight Willet, he is going to fight you." "David Willet has been a father to me, more, in truth, than most fathers are to their sons.
His experience in affairs of honor was not as great as de Galisonnière's, and he showed some excitement, but he was one of the honnêtes gens and he too wished, the punishment of de Mézy. Perhaps he had suffered from him some insult or snub which he was not in a position to resent fully. "Is your wrist strong and steady and without soreness, Mr. Lennox?" asked Captain de Galisonnière.
"Welcome, Mr. Lennox, my brave and generous opponent of the morning," said a voice, and, looking through the tawny mist, he saw the man whom he had fought and spared, Count Jean de Mézy, in a wonderful coat, waistcoat and knee breeches of white satin, heavily embroidered, white silk stockings, and low white shoes with great silver buckles, and a small gold-hilted sword hanging at his thigh.
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