"You were ready enough to fight Count Jean de Mezy this morning," said
Boucher, "knowing that he was not in condition and that you had a skill
with the sword not suspected by him."
The truth of it all flashed upon Robert with the certainty of
conviction. The entire situation had been arranged and de Courcelles was
one of its principals. He had been brought into the garden that a fight
might be forced upon him there. Boucher was a bravo and undoubtedly a
great swordsman. He understood now the secret of those thick flexible
wrists and of the man's insulting manner. His blood became ice in his
veins for a moment or two, but it was good for him, cooling his head and
quickening his mind. His heart beat with regularity and steadiness.
"I thank you, Monsieur de Courcelles," he said, "for your action in this
matter, which I now understand. It's true that it departs in some
respects from what I have understood to be the code and practice of a
French gentleman, but doubtless, sir, it's your right to amend those
standards as you choose.
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