You shall keep it at my disposal as long as I choose. Neither
more nor less. You are on your honour till I say the word."
"I am! But, sacrebleu! This is an absurd position for a General of the
Empire to be placed in!" cried General Feraud, in accents of profound
and dismayed conviction. "It amounts to sitting all the rest of my
life with a loaded pistol in a drawer waiting for your word. It's--it's
idiotic; I shall be an object of--of--derision."
"Absurd?--idiotic? Do you think so?" queried General D'Hubert with sly
gravity. "Perhaps. But I don't see how that can be helped. However, I
am not likely to talk at large of this adventure. Nobody need ever know
anything about it. Just as no one to this day, I believe, knows the
origin of our quarrel. . . . Not a word more," he added, hastily.
"I can't really discuss this question with a man who, as far as I am
concerned, does not exist."
When the two duellists came out into the open, General Feraud walking a
little behind, and rather with the air of walking in a trance, the two
seconds hurried towards them, each from his station at the edge of the
wood.
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