"I do not quite understand you," replied Franz; "pray explain your
meaning, for you excite my curiosity to the highest pitch."
"Listen," said the count, and bile mounted to his face, as the blood would to the face of any other. "If a man had by unheard-of tortures destroyed your father, your mother, your mistress; in a word, one of those beings who, when they are torn from your heart, leave an eternal void, a wound that never closes, in your breast, do you think the reparation that society gives you sufficient by causing the knife of the guillotine to pass between the base of the occiput and the trapezal muscles of the murderer, because he who has caused us years of moral sufferings undergoes a few moments of physical pain?"
"Yes, I know," said Franz, "that human justice is insufficient to con sole us; she can give blood in return for blood, that is all; but you must demand from her only what it is in her power to grant."
"I will put another case to you," continued the count; "that where society, attacked in its foundations by the death of a person, avenges death by death. But are there not a thousand tortures by which a man may be made to suffer without society taking the least cognizance of them, or offering him even the insufficient means of vengeance, of which we have just spoken? Are there not crimes for which the impalement of the Turks, the augers of the Persians, the twisted sinews of the Iroquois, are inadequate tortures, and which are unpunished by an indifferent society? Answer me, do not these crimes exist?"
"Yes," answered Franz; "and it is to punish them that duelling is tolerated."
"Ah, duelling!" cried the count; "a pleasant manner, upon my soul, of arriving at your end when that end is vengeance! A man has carried off your mistress, a man has seduced your wife, a man has dishonored your daughter; he has rendered the whole life of one who had the right to expect from Heaven that portion of happiness God has promised to every one of his creatures an existence of misery and infamy; and you think you are avenged because you send a ball through the head, or pass a sword through the breast, of that man who has planted madness in your brain, and despair in your heart. Without recollecting that it is often he who comes off victorious from the strife clear in the eyes of the world, and, in a certain fashion, absolved by God! No, no," con tinued the count; "had I to avenge myself, it is not thus I would take revenge."
"Then you disapprove of duelling! you would not fight a duel?" asked Albert in his turn, astonished at this strange theory.
"Oh, yes," replied the count; "understand me, I would fight a duel for a trifle, for an insult, for a blow; and the more so that, thanks to
