“‘Monsieur De Rivers then, if you please,’ said I, tauntingly, ‘I congratulate you on understanding a language which you affect not to be able to speak.’ The villain crimsoned and was abashed. ‘But think not you shall thus escape. _You are my man_; and without regard to the name under which at present you choose to go, I pronounce you again to be a scoundrel.’ “‘I—I,’ stammered Conway, ‘know you not. The gentleman is mad,’ he said, with a faint smile of contempt, turning to the crowd which had now gathered around us. A scornful look was the only reply. One of them even went so far as to say, shrugging his shoulders, “‘Sacre—why don’t you fight? Can’t you see the gentleman _means_ to insult you.’ “‘Crazy, did you say, villain?’ I exclaimed, stepping up to Conway, ‘I am sane enough to see that you are a coward as well as a scoundrel—do you understand me now?’ and deliberately taking him by the nose, I spat in his face. “‘By God, sir,’ said he, his face blanched with rage, making him, for one moment, forget his fears, ‘this is too much. I am at your service. Here is my card. When shall it be?’ “‘The sooner the better,’ I hissed in his ear, as he turned to leave the room. ‘Let it be to-night.’ “‘Gentlemen,’ interposed a French officer, whom I knew casually, approaching us at my beck, ‘this matter had better be settled at once. Had it not?’ he continued, turning to Conway, or rather to an acquaintance of his, whom my enemy had singled out from the crowd as we left the room. “‘Yes! let it be at once—here,’ exclaimed Conway, almost foaming with rage. “‘At once then,’ said the two seconds, simultaneously, ‘step this way.’ “We followed as they lead; and passing up a staircase before us, we soon found ourselves in a small, dimly lighted room, about twelve feet square. “‘We shall be free from observation here,’ said my second, as he closed and double-locked the door. “During this brief remark the other officer had been engaged in an earnest conversation with his principal; and after a silence of some minutes on our part, he crossed the room, and addressed a few words to my second. After the other had ceased speaking, he continued silent for a few minutes. At length, however, he said, “‘Well, I will make your proposition;’ and turning to me he continued, ‘I suppose you are scarcely willing to apologise. The demand comes from your opponent.’ “‘Never,’ said I. “‘Then the affair must proceed.’ “‘Gentlemen,’ said Conway’s second, ‘how do you fight? As you are the challenged party the choice is with you!’ “‘With pistols—at once—in this room,’ answered my second. “I observed the cheek of Conway blanch at these words, and his eye became wild and unsettled. He muttered something about the police, the possibility of an interruption, and the unseasonableness of the hour. Even his own second could not restrain an expression of disgust at his cowardice.