I will have my revenge! Down, we must fight!'" Marie-Anne could scarcely tell whether she was awake or dreaming.
"My brother," she murmured, "has challenged the marquis! Is it possible ?" "Brave as Monsieur Martial is," pursued Chanlouineau, "he did not seem inclined to accept the invitation.

He stammered out something like this: 'You are mad--you are jesting--have we not always been friends?
What does this mean ?' "Jean ground his teeth in rage.

'This means that we have endured your insulting familiarity long enough,' he replied, 'and if you do not dismount and meet me in open combat, I will blow your brains out!' "Your brother, as he spoke, manipulated his pistol in so threatening a manner that the marquis dismounted, and addressing me: "'You see, Chanlouineau,' he said, 'I must fight a duel or submit to assassination.

If Jean kills me there is no more to be said--but if I kill him, what is to be done ?' "I told him he would be free to depart on condition he would give me his word not to return to Montaignac before two o'clock.
"'Then I accept the challenge,' said he; 'give me a weapon.' "I gave him my sword, your brother drew his, and they took their places in the middle of the highway." The young farmer paused to take breath, then said, more slowly: "Marie-Anne, your father and I have misjudged your brother.

Poor Jean's appearance is terribly against him.