"`"Now am I at liberty to retire?" said the general. The
president rose, appointed three members to accompany him, and got
into the carriage with the general after bandaging his eyes. One of
those three members was the coachman who had driven them there. The
other members silently dispersed. "Where do you wish to be taken?"
asked the president. — "Anywhere out of your presence," replied M.
d'Epinay. "Beware, sir," replied the president, "you are no longer
in the assembly, and have only to do with individuals; do not
insult them unless you wish to be held responsible." But instead of
listening, M. d'Epinay went on, — "You are still as brave in your
carriage as in your assembly because you are still four against
one." The president stopped the coach. They were at that part of
the Quai des Ormes where the steps lead down to the river. "Why do
you stop here?" asked d'Epinay.
"`"Because, sir," said the president, "you have insulted a man,
and that man will not go one step farther without demanding
honorable reparation."
"`"Another method of assassination?" said the general, shrugging
his shoulders.
"`"Make no noise, sir, unless you wish me to consider you as one
of the men of whom you spoke just now as cowards, who take their
weakness for a shield. You are alone, one alone shall answer you;
you have a sword by your side, I have one in my cane; you have no
witness, one of these gentlemen will serve you. Now, if you please,
remove your bandage." The general tore the handkerchief from his
eyes. "At last," said he, "I shall know with whom I have to do."
They opened the door and the four men alighted.'"
Franz again interrupted himself, and wiped the cold drops from
his brow; there was something awful in hearing the son read aloud
in trembling pallor these details of his father's death, which had
hitherto been a mystery. Valentine clasped her hands as if in
prayer. Noirtier looked at Villefort with an almost sublime
expression of contempt and pride. Franz continued: —expression of contempt and pride. Franz continued: —
"`It was, as we said, the fifth of February. For three days the
mercury had been five or six degrees below freezing and the steps
were covered with ice. The general was stout and tall, the
president offered him the side of the railing to assist him in
getting down. The two witnesses followed. It was a dark night. The
ground from the steps to the river was covered with snow and
hoarfrost, the water of the river looked black and deep. One of the
seconds went for a lantern in a coal-barge near, and by its light
they examined the weapons. The president's sword, which was simply,
as he had said, one he carried in his cane, was five inches shorter
than the general's, and had no guard. The general proposed to cast
lots for the swords, but the president said it was he who had given
the provocation, and when he had given it he had supposed each
would use his own arms. The witnesses endeavored to insist, but the
president bade them be silent. The lantern was placed on the
ground, the two adversaries took their stations, and the duel
began. The light made the two swords appear like flashes of
lightning; as for the men, they were scarcely perceptible, the
darkness was so great.
"`General d'Epinay passed for one of the best swordsmen in the
army, but he was pressed so closely in the onset that he missed his
aim and fell. The witnesses thought he was dead, but his adversary,
who knew he had not struck him, offered him the assistance of his
hand to rise. The circumstance irritated instead of calming the
general, and he rushed on his adversary. But his opponent did not
allow his guard to be broken. He received him on his sword and
three times the general drew back on finding himself too closely
engaged, and then returned to the charge. At the third he fell
again. They thought he slipped, as at first, and the witnesses,
seeing he did not move, approached and endeavored to raise him, but
the one who passed his arm around the body found it was moistenedthe one who passed his arm around the body found it was moistened
with blood. The general, who had almost fainted, revived. "Ah,"
said he, "they have sent some fencing-master to fight with me." The
president, without answering, approached the witness who held the
lantern, and raising his sleeve, showed him two wounds he had
received in his arm; then opening his coat, and unbuttoning his
waistcoat, displayed his side, pierced with a third wound. Still he
had not even uttered a sigh. General d'Epinay died five minutes
after.'"
Franz read these last words in a voice so choked that they were
hardly audible, and then stopped, passing his hand over his eyes as
if to dispel a cloud; but after a moment's silence, he continued:
—
"`The president went up the steps, after pushing his sword into
his cane; a track of blood on the snow marked his course. He had
scarcely arrived at the top when he heard a heavy splash in the
water — it was the general's body, which the witnesses had just
thrown into the river after ascertaining that he was dead. The
general fell, then, in a loyal duel, and not in ambush as it might
have been reported. In proof of this we have signed this paper to
establish the truth of the facts, lest the moment should arrive
when either of the actors in this terrible scene should be accused
of premeditated murder or of infringement of the laws of honor.
"`Signed, Beaurepaire, Deschamps, and Lecharpal.'"
When Franz had finished reading this account, so dreadful for a
son; when Valentine, pale with emotion, had wiped away a tear; when
Villefort, trembling, and crouched in a corner, had endeavored to
lessen the storm by supplicating glances at the implacable old man,
— "Sir," said d'Epinay to Noirtier, "since you are well acquainted
with all these details, which are attested by honorable signatures,
— since you appear to take some interest in me, although you have
only manifested it hitherto by causing me sorrow, refuse me not one
final satisfaction — tell me the name of the president of the club,