"You have charged me with cowardice, and you have grossly insulted me besides, so I tried to chastise you as one chastises a vagabond who insults you on a street corner. Unfortunately the darkness rendered my attempts futile, and you will be obliged to take the will for the deed. If this doesn't satisfy you, you know who I am and you can come to the Château de Pont Brillant to-morrow with two honourable men, if you know any, which I doubt very much, judging from your actions. These gentlemen can confer with the Vicomte de Marcilly and M. le Duc de Morville, my seconds. Your seconds will tell my seconds your name and the cause of the challenge you say you sent me this morning. These gentlemen will decide between them what should be done. I am perfectly willing to abide by their decision. That is the way such affairs are managed among well-bred people. As you don't know, I will endeavour to teach you." "And you refuse to fight me here and now?" "I do, most decidedly." "Take care. Either you or I will remain here!" "Then it will be you, so good night," said Raoul. As he spoke he plunged his spurs into his horse's sides. The animal made a powerful spring forward, hurling Frederick to the ground. When Madame Bastien's son, still stunned from his fall, staggered to his feet, he heard the sound of Raoul's horse's hoofs already dying away in the distance. After a brief moment of stupor, Frederick uttered a cry of ferocious joy, and, picking up his gun, climbed one of the almost perpendicular banks on the side of the road with the aid of the pine saplings, and plunged headlong into the forest. CHAPTER XIV. While these events were transpiring in the forest of Pont Brillant, Madame Bastien was a prey to the most poignant anxiety. Faithful to the promise she had made Frederick the evening before, she waited until nearly one o'clock in the afternoon before entering her son's room. Believing he was still sleeping, she hoped he would derive much benefit from this restful slumber. The young mother was in her chamber, which adjoined her son's room, listening every now and then for some sound that would seem to indicate that her son was awake, when Marguerite, their old servant, came in to ask for some instructions. "Speak low, and close the door carefully," said Marie. "I don't want my son waked." "M. Frederick, madame; why, he went out this morning at sunrise with his gun." To rush into her son's bedroom was the work of only an instant. Frederick was not there; his gun, too, was missing. Several hours passed, but Frederick did not appear, and the light of the dull November day was already beginning to wane when Marguerite came running in. "Madame, madame," she exclaimed, "here is Father André! He saw M. Frederick this morning." "You saw my son this morning, André? What did he say to you? Where is he now?" cried Madame Bastien, eagerly. "Yes, madame, M. Frederick came to me for some bullets about sunrise this morning."