In a formal duel both of them would have spent a few cautious moments in getting the feel of the other's steel before going in to the attack; but the Chevalier was in no mood to waste time trifling with his young antagonist. Within a minute he had delivered three swift lunges and advancing with each strove to force down Roger's guard by the sheer weight of his stronger arm.
Roger knew that if he allowed these tactics to continue he would never be able to stay the course. If he remained on the defensive his more powerful opponent would soon tire him out and have him at his mercy.
He was dead sober now and fighting skilfully. Almost to his amazement he found that he could hold his own, at least for a limited period, but he knew that he must attempt to end the fight before he felt the first signs of exhaustion.
How to do so was now his problem. They had twice circled round one another, their blades close-knit and flashing like living fire. Roger side-stepped twice in order to get the moon behind him and in the Chevalier's eyes. He was almost as afraid of killing his antagonist, for fear of what might befall him later if he did, as of being killed himself; so he essayed a pass that the old Master-of-Arms at Sherborne had taught him.
With a sudden spring forward he ran his sword up De Roubec's until the hilts met with a clash; he then gave a violent twist. The Chevalier let out a gasp of pain and his sword flew from his hand as the result of a half-sprained wrist.
It somersaulted through the air to fall with a clatter on the cobbles twenty feet away. As Roger had been taught that a disarmed man might run after his weapon, pick it up and renew the fight, he dashed over to the fallen sword himself and put his foot upon it. Then, seeing that the Chevalier had made no move, he picked it up and walked slowly back.
De Roubec seemed momentarily stunned by his defeat and when he spoke his voice no longer carried any hint of the liquor he had consumed.
"Monsieur Brook," he said soberly, "my service to you. Believe me I had no real intent to do you harm; but I was a little in wine, and a stupid impulse urged me to give a young man, whom I felt had been guilty of some rudeness towards me, a lesson. As it is I have been taught one myself."
The apology was so handsome that Roger could not but accept it, and it was not in his nature to bear malice. So, with a bow, he handed the Chevalier back his sword, and said:
"Pray, think no more of it, Monsieur le Chevalier. I admit now that I was much at fault myself. You had, I am sure, the best intentions in taking me to these places of entertainment and 'twas kind of you to seek to provide amusement for a stranger. That I could raise no zest for little Mou-Mou was no fault of yours, and I should have made myself clear on that head much earlier. But I give you my word that I paid not once but twice for the dubious privilege of spending an hour in her company."
"And I willingly accept it, as I feel sure you will accept mine that I also paid the young harpy."
"Indeed, I do; so let us both thank God that we have no cause for more serious regrets on the matter than are occasioned by a few squandered guineas."
De Roubec took Roger's arm. "I swear to you, mon ami, that even in a drunken temper I would never have harmed you seriously. Indeed I vow I drew upon you only with the intent of scaring you into running away."
He spoke with such earnestness that Roger found it difficult to doubt his sincerity and he flushed with pleasure as the Chevalier went on:
"But what address you showed, and what courage! Having scratched a Chinaman I found a Tartar, and I was hard put to it to defend myself. Come now, my mouth is as dry as a bin of sawdust from that villainous champagne, and I am sobered up entirely. To show that there is no ill-feeling left between us let's drink a bottle of good Burgundy together before we go to bed."
Roger's throat now also felt dry and parched so he readily assented, and they began to hammer with their sword hilts on the nail-studded door of the inn.
After a while it was opened by the wizened little serving-man who, having been aroused from his sleep in a cubby-hole under the stairs, grumblingly admitted them.
De Roubec pulled out a fistful of crowns and showed them to the man, as he said, "Stir your stumps, knave, and get us up a bottle of Burgundy from the cellar. And a good one, mind; a Chambertin or a Hospice de Beaune, if you have it."
Having lit the lantern in the parlour for them the man disappeared, to return a few minutes later with a dust-encrusted bottle and glasses. After uncorking the wine and taking the money for it he shambled off back to his cubby-hole out in the hall.
The two recent antagonists now toasted one another with most friendly phrases and both felt considerably better after a good drink of the clean, generous Burgundy. The sight of the Chevalier's pocket full of crowns had recalled to Roger that even if the later form of entertainment to which his companion had introduced him had proved a fiasco the earlier had been an unqualified success, and he remarked:
"You must have made a pretty sum at Monsieur Tricot's, since towards the end you were staking double crowns."
" 'Tis but indifferent sport playing at a low table," shrugged De Roubec grandly. "But 'twas none too bad a haul, and 'twill serve to keep me in wine for a day or two; with luck until my funds arrive. My sole regret is that you plan to leave Le Havre so soon, otherwise 'twould have been a pleasure to afford you some entertainment of your own choosing out of my winnings."
"I hope to complete my business to-morrow," said Roger, "but it may be a day or two before I can secure a passage home, and if so I will certainly avail myself of your kind invitation."
De Roubec nodded. "Pray do not think that I have any desire to pry into your affairs, but I know Le Havre well, and if you feel that I might be of any assistance to you in this business of yours, do not hesitate to command me."
Roger was now feeling in great fettle. The fact that he had actually fought in earnest for the first time and emerged victorious from the encounter filled him with elation; and, since the cause of the affray now appeared to have been no more than a stupid misunderstanding brought about by the fumes of dubious liquor, he was, not unnaturally, drawn towards his late antagonist. The Chevalier had, he felt, gone out of his way to take an interest in him as a young and lonely stranger, had seen to it that he got a good exchange for his English money and had enabled him to win a nice little sum. Moreover, it now seemed to him that the expedition to the "Widow Scarron" should not be held against his new friend, since it might have appealed to many young men as the high-spot in an evening out. The Chavalier had, too taken his defeat like a gentleman and was at the moment playing the generous host.
None of the excitements of the past twenty-four hours had caused Roger to forget for long that his sole purpose in coming to France was the satisfactory disposal of Georgina's jewels, and this had yet to be accomplished. It struck him now that instead of seeking out a goldsmith for himself and dealing with one who might or might not give him a good price, he could both save himself time in the morning and make certain of securing a fair deal by consulting De Roubec, so he asked:
"Do you perchance know of an honest goldsmith here in Le Havre?"
"Why, yes," replied the Chevalier, after only a moment's hesitation. "I know of several. Do you wish to make a purchase or have you something to sell?"
"I wish to dispose of some trinkets, mainly gold items, but a few with gems set in them and a number of cameos. To do so was, in fact, my reason for coming to France."
De Roubec's eyes narrowed slightly, and Roger, seeing this, did not wonder, as the bare statement might have put all sorts of ideas into anyone's head. With his usual quick inventiveness he went on to offer an entirely false explanation.