"That is astonishing!" said the Count
"And what was his name?"
"Silvio was his name."
"Silvio!" exclaimed the Count, starting from his seat. "You knew Silvio?"
"How could I fail to know him?—we were comrades; he was received at our mess like a brother-officer. It is now about five years since I last had tidings of him. Then you, Count, also knew him?"
"I knew him very well. Did he never tell you of one very extraordinary incident in his life?"
"Do you mean the slap in the face, Count, that he received from a blackguard at a ball?"
"He did not tell you the name of this blackguard?"
"No, Count, he did not. Forgive me," I added, guessing the truth, "forgive me—I did not—could it really have been you?"
"It was myself," replied the Count, greatly agitated; "and the shots in the picture are a memento of our last meeting."
"Oh, my dear," said the Countess, "for God's sake, do not relate it! It frightens me to think of it."
"No," replied the Count; "I must tell him all. He knows how I insulted his friend. He shall also know how Silvio revenged himself." The Count pushed a chair towards me, and with the liveliest interest I listened to the following story:—
"Five years ago," began the Count, "I got married. The honeymoon I spent here, in this village. To this house I am indebted for the happiest moments of my life, and for one of its saddest remembrances.
"One afternoon we went out riding together. My wife's horse became restive. She was frightened, got off the horse, handed the reins over to me, and walked home. I rode on before her. In the yard I saw a travelling carriage, and I was told that in my study sat a man who would not give his name, but simply said that he wanted to see me on business. I entered the study, and saw in the darkness a man, dusty and unshaven. He stood there, by the fireplace. I approached him trying to recollect his face.
"You don't remember me, Count?" he said, in a tremulous voice.
"I fired and hit that picture."
"'Silvio!' I cried, and I confess, I felt that my hair was standing on end.
"'Exactly so,' he added. 'You owe me a shot; I have come to claim it. Are
