I had overheard indistinctly the beginning of this conversation, and, finding that I was the subject of discussion, had walked rapidly toward the group. When I heard Count Hector speak bluntly of an _intrigue_ with Alezia, the dissatisfaction which I felt because the battle was being fought without me changed to indignation, and I determined to make some one of our adversaries pay for the falseness of my position. I could not vent my spleen on Count Hector, who had already been insulted by Nasi; so it was upon Signor de Monteverbasco that the storm fell. That worthy squire, on learning my name had said simply, with an air of amazement: "The deuce!" I walked up to him, and looked him in the eye with a threatening expression. "What do you mean by that, signor?" "Why, I said nothing, signor." "I beg your pardon, signor, you said: 'That is still worse.'" "No, signor, I did not say so." "Yes, signor, you did say so." "If you absolutely insist upon it, signor, let us agree that I did say it." "Ah! you admit it at last. Very good, signor; if you do not consider me good enough for a second, I shall find a way to compel you to consider me good enough for an adversary." "Is this a challenge, signor?" "Call it whatever you please, signor. But let me tell you that I don't remember your name, and that I don't like your face." "It is well, signor; if agreeable to you, we will meet at the same time and place as these gentlemen." "Agreed. Gentlemen, I have the honor to salute you." Whereupon, Nasi and I returned to the house, after enjoining silence on the servants. Hector Grimani's conduct on that occasion introduced me to a type of the men one meets in fashionable society, which I had not before observed. If it had occurred to me to pass judgment on Hector the first time I had seen him at Villa Grimani, when he retreated into his cravat and his nullity in order not to be intolerable to his cousin, I should have said that he was a weak, harmless, cold, but good-natured youth. Was it possible that such an insignificant creature could cherish a feeling of hostility? Could those mechanically refined manners conceal an instinctive tendency to brutal domination and cowardly resentment? I would not have believed it; I did not expect to hear him demand satisfaction of Nasi for his harsh reception; for I thought that he was more polished and less courageous, and I was astonished to find that, after being foolish enough to invite such a castigation, he had sufficient determination to resent it. The fact is that Hector was not one of those insignificant men who never do good or evil. He was ill-tempered and presumptuous; but, being conscious of his intellectual mediocrity, he always allowed himself to be overborne in discussion; then, spurred on by hatred and vindictiveness, he would insist on fighting. He fought frequently and always on some insufficient ground, so that his tardy and obstinate courage did him more harm than good.