g his bosom, repeated: "Forgive me, Lord, for yielding to a
movement of rage! and, above all, forgive him who has injured me!"

In spite of his apparent resignation, the Jesuit's voice was neatly
agitated. He seemed to feel a hot iron upon his cheek, for never before
in his life, whether as a soldier or a priest, had he suffered such an
insult. He had thrown himself upon his knees, partly from religious
mummery, and partly to avoid the gaze of the marshal, fearing that, were
he to meet his eye, he should not be able to answer for himself, but give
way to his impetuous feelings. On seeing the Jesuit kneel down, and on
hearing his hypocritical invocation, the marshal, whose sword was in his
hand, shook with indignation.

"Stand up, scoundrel!" he said, "stand up, wretch!" And he spurned the
Jesuit with his boot.

At this new insult, Father d'Aigrigny leaped up, as if he had been moved
by steel springs. It was too much; he could bear no more. Blinded with
rage, he rushed to the able, caught up the other sword, and exclaimed,
grinding his teeth together: "Ah! you will have blood. Well then! it
shall be yours--if possible!"

And the Jesuit, still in all the vigor of manhood, his face purple, his
large gray eyes sparkling with hate, fell upon his guard with the ease
and skill of a finished swordsman.

"At last!" cried the marshal, as their blades were about to cross.

But once more reflection came to damp the fire of the Jesuit. He
remembered how this hazardous duel would gratify the wishes of Rodin,
whose fate was in his hands, and whom he hated perhaps even more than the
marshal. Therefore, in spite of the fury which possessed him, in spite of
his secret hope to conquer in this combat, so strong and healthy did he
feel himself, and so fatal had been the effects of grief on the
constitution of Marshal Simon, he succeeded in mastering his rage, and,
to the amazement of the marshal, dropped the point of his sword,
exclaiming: "I am a minister of the Lord, and must not shed blood.
Forgive ne, heaven! and, oh! forgive my brother also."

Then placing the blade beneath his heel, he drew the hilt suddenly
towards him, and broke the weapon into two pieces. The duel was no longer
possible. Father d'Aigrigny had put it out of his own power to yield to a
new burst of violence, of which he saw the imminent danger. Marshal Simon
remained for an instant mute and motionless with surprise and
indignation, for he also saw that the due