Граф Монте-Кристо

The Insult.

           "

           "Iam,sir,alivingguaranty,"repliedMonteCristo,motionless,butwithathreateninglook;"wehavebothbloodinourveinswhichwewishtoshedthatisourmutualguaranty.Telltheviscountso,andthattomorrow,beforeteno’clock,Ishallseewhatcolorhisis."

           "ThenIhaveonlytomakearrangementsfortheduel,"saidBeauchamp.

           "Itisquiteimmaterialtome,"saidMonteCristo,"anditwasveryunnecessarytodisturbmeattheoperaforsuchatrifle.InFrancepeoplefightwiththeswordorpistol,inthecolonieswiththecarbine,inArabiawiththedagger.Tellyourclientthat,althoughIamtheinsultedparty,inordertocarryoutmyeccentricity,Ileavehimthechoiceofarms,andwillacceptwithoutdiscussion,withoutdispute,anything,evencombatbydrawinglots,whichisalwaysstupid,butwithmedifferentfromotherpeople,asIamsuretogain."

           "Suretogain!"repeatedBeauchamp,lookingwithamazementatthecount.

           "Certainly,"saidMonteCristo,slightlyshrugginghisshoulders;"otherwiseIwouldnotfightwithM.deMorcerf.IshallkillhimIcannothelpit.Onlybyasinglelinethiseveningatmyhouseletmeknowthearmsandthehour;Idonotliketobekeptwaiting."

           "Pistols,then,ateighto’clock,intheBoisdeVincennes,"saidBeauchamp,quitedisconcerted,notknowingifhewasdealingwithanarrogantbraggadocioorasupernaturalbeing.

           "Verywell,sir,"saidMonteCristo

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