The four sprang to their feet, and Bertrand, recognizing
Calvert, called out, "Monsieur--Monsieur Calvert!" All his airs of
equality and importance fell from him, and he ran toward his former
master, but Calvert waved him aside.
"The last time Monsieur de St. Aulaire and I met, gentlemen," says
Calvert, looking around contemptuously at the company, "he insulted me
grossly. Unfortunately he was drunk--drunk, I repeat it, and in no
condition to answer for himself. I demand satisfaction to-night."
"And, by God! you shall have it," cried St. Aulaire, half beside
himself. His face was quite white now except for the red mark across it,
which Calvert's blow had furrowed, and his eyes were wild and staring.
The suddenness and fierceness of Calvert's attack had driven every
thought out of his mind but the wish to avenge the insult offered him,
and almost without a word more the party left the room and went out into
one of the allees of the Champs Elysees close beside the cafe. Such
affairs were so common in the Champs Elysees and elsewhere in Paris in
those days that, though they were but a few feet from the public
thoroughfare, they apprehended no interference from the guard or the
passers-by.
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