“Because that has been done in private, and your visit has been public. There is your horse pawing the ground at our door, and your soldier in uniform, attracting the attention of everyone. You know very well what a little provincial town is. In one hour from now, all the world will know that a brilliant officer has been here to threaten a little lawyer, who is conducting a suit against him, and you may be pretty sure that, to-morrow, when I shall have observed for you and yours all the consideration I look upon as your due, more than one malicious soul will accuse me of being afraid of you, and will laugh at the contemptible figure I will cut beside you. I resign myself to this humiliation, but this duty accomplished, I will have another to fulfill which will be to prove that I am no coward, unworthy of practicing an honorable profession, and capable of betraying the confidence of my clients through fear of a sword thrust. Consider that I am very young, monsieur, that I have a character to establish, now or never.” “You make me realize my mistake,” answered M. d’Aillane. “I did not appreciate the importance of my behavior, and I owe you a formal avowal in public.” “It will be too late, after my speech, they will always believe that I have yielded to fear; and it will be too soon before; they might think that you feared my revelations.” “Then I see there is no way out of this difficulty, and that all I can do for you, is to give you the satisfaction that you require. Depend upon my word and my silence. On leaving the palace to-morrow, you will find me at whatever place you may appoint.” We made our arrangements. After which the young officer observed with a mournful and affectionate air: “This is a bad piece of business for me, monsieur, for should I be so unfortunate as to kill you, I believe I would then kill myself for having placed a man of so much feeling as yourself in a position, where he must of necessity stake his life against mine. God grant that the result may not prove too serious. It will be a lesson for me. And meanwhile, whatever happens, bear in mind my repentance, and do not have too poor an opinion of me. It is too true that the world brings us up badly, we young men of family. We forget that the _bourgeoisie_ is as good as we are, and that the time has come to recognize this fact. Come, give me your hand now, while we prepare to cut each other’s throats!” Madame d’Ionis was to come to town the next day to be present at the trial. I had received several very friendly letters from her in which she no longer strove to influence my sense of duty as a lawyer, and in which she contented herself with advising me to respect the honor of her relatives, who could not, she said, be despised or offended without reflecting disgrace upon herself. It was easy to see that she counted upon her presence to restrain me, in case I should be carried away by oratorical fervor.