"Oh! do not take it so, D'Alvimar," cried Guillaume testily. "Give her your own name, unless you propose that we shall pass the night here!" "Nay, cousin," said the marquis; "I myself will supply this mysterious name. Monsieur de Villareal's alleged sister was called Julie de Sandoval." "Well, why not, monsieur?" said D'Alvimar, seizing eagerly upon what he believed to be a monstrous blunder on the old man's part. "I did not wish to mention that name. It was not becoming in me to reveal it, and I thought that you did not know it. Since you yourself, by asserting that to be the fact, have been guilty of one of those falsehoods which you rebuke so sharply in others, let me tell you, monsieur, that Julie de Sandoval was my mother's daughter, by her first husband." "In that case, monsieur," replied Bois-Doré uncovering, "I am ready to withdraw, and to apologize for my violence, if you will swear to me on your honor that you recognized your half-sister, Julie de Sandoval, under her veil, at the tavern of----" "I swear it to satisfy you. Indeed, I saw her without her veil in that tavern." "For the third time--pardon my persistence, I owe it to my brother's memory--for the third time, it was really your sister, Julie de Sandoval? The ring which she wore on her finger and is now on mine, and which bears that name in full, can have belonged to no other than her? You swear it?" "I swear it! Are you satisfied?" "Stay! there is a crest on the bezel of this ring; _a shield azure with a head or_. Are those the arms of the Sandovals of your family?" "Yes, monsieur, the very same." "Then, monsieur," said Bois-Doré, replacing his cap, "I declare once more that you have lied like the impudent dastard that you are; for I have been making sport of you: your alleged sister's ring bears the name of Maria de Merida, and the arms are simple with a cross argent. I can prove it." XXXII Guillaume was shaken; but D'Alvimar reflected rapidly. The moon, even though it had been much brighter, would not have enabled one to see the tiny letters and microscopic crest engraved in a ring, and in those times people had not, as they have to-day, a light all ready in the pocket. It was necessary therefore to postpone to some other time the examination of this evidence. The only course for the culprit to adopt was to seek, not to avoid, a duel. What he dreaded was that they would deny him that honorable chance of escape, and that he would be made a prisoner of the marquis or of the provincial authorities. He hurriedly led Guillaume aside and said to him, with a forced laugh: