Together they took the street which most quickly would bring them to the end of the village, and went a considerable stretch outside the town. Leaving the road they went into the meadows and stopped at a little open space formed by four immense _camichines_, which, extending over the space, their broad, flat and immovable boughs projected a dense and heavy shadow around. “I have brought you to this spot,” said Gonzalo, stopping his horse, “because it is retired and no one may see or hear us. It is unnecessary to enter into explanations; you know how gravely you have offended me, and in what way. That is sufficient. Now I desire that you shall give me satisfaction with arms in hand.” “Although I am not valiant, I have some dignity and never will I yield before an enemy who challenges me,” answered Luis, tranquilly; “but I have one remark to make to you, which is, that my conscience does not reproach me with having done anything to offend you.” “Yes, I was expecting that you would deny responsibility for your acts. Anything else was impossible.” “Moderate your words. Do not let us pass to a serious occasion without some rational cause.” “Pretext,” cried Gonzalo; “you do not desire to fight. You are a coward.” Saying this he placed his hand upon his pistol for a moment. Luis was livid and acted as if he would follow his example; but he stopped and left his arm in place, recalling his promise to Ramona at the ball. “One moment,” he said, “only one moment; if you are a man and not a brute, as you seem to be, you must first hear me. By my mother’s honor, I assure you that I am disposed to fight; but not before we understand each other. What is the matter?” “You love Ramona. Deny that if you can.” “God save me from committing such a vile act! It is true.” “You have courted her.” “That is true.” “You danced with her the night of the _fiesta_.” “That also is true.” “You made a declaration of love to her.” “I cannot deny that.” “You are a shameless being, because you knew she was my sweetheart and that we were engaged to be married.” “That is not true.” Gonzalo threw upon Luis a glance of infinite contempt on hearing these words. “You are a wretch,” he cried, “and it is necessary that I punish you. Defend yourself.” “Assassinate me if you wish; I will not draw my pistol until you have heard me. Come, dispatch me; here you have me,” and he exposed his breast to his challenger. “There is nothing to do but hear you in order to quit you of every excuse for your cowardice. Speak, and hurry, for I am impatient to punish you.”