SCENE III

_Don Julian, Don Severo, and Pepito._

D. SEVERO. You here?

PEPITO. [_Aside._] By Jove, I see they know all about it. [_Aloud._] We are all here. How do you do, uncle? How do, father? [_Aside._] Easy. They know what's in the wind. [_Aloud._] What brings you?—but I suppose you are looking for Ernest.

D. SEVERO. What else could bring us here?

D. JULIAN. I daresay you know what this madman is up to?

PEPITO. What he's up to! Well, yes—rather. I know as much as another.

D. SEVERO. And it's to-morrow?

PEPITO. No, to-morrow he is going away, so it must be to-day.

D. JULIAN. [_Surprised._] What do you say?

PEPITO. That's what Pepe Uceda told me last night at the club. He is Nebreda's second, so he ought to know. But why do you stare so oddly? Didn't you know——

D. JULIAN. [_Hastily covering his brother's movement._] Everything.

D. SEVERO. We——

D. JULIAN. [_Aside._] Hold your tongue, Severo.—He starts to-morrow, and to-day he stakes his life—and we are here, of course, to prevent both, the duel and the departure. [_Don Julian makes it evident that he is only sounding Pepito's knowledge of facts, and that he is only aware of the pending departure._]

D. SEVERO. What duel?

D. JULIAN. [_Aside to Severo._] I know nothing about it, but I shall presently.

PEPITO. [_Aside._] Come, I haven't been such a duffer after all.

D. JULIAN. [_Speaking with an air of certainty._] We know there is a viscount——

PEPITO. Yes.

D. JULIAN. With whom Ernest proposes to fight—a certain trustworthy person has informed us, who was at once apprised of it. They say 'tis a serious matter [_Pepito nods_], a disgraceful quarrel in the presence of several witnesses [_Pepito nods again_]—the lie direct, and a deluge of bad language——

PEPITO. [_Interrupts excitedly, glad of his more accurate information._] Language indeed!—a blow bigger than a monument.

D. SEVERO. On which side?

PEPITO. Ernest struck the viscount.

D. JULIAN. Of course Ernest struck the viscount. I thought you knew that, Severo. The viscount insulted him. Patience is not the lad's strong point—hence the blow.

PEPITO. Exactly.

D. JULIAN. [_Confidently._] I told you we knew the whole story. [_Then anxiously._] The affair is serious?

PEPITO. Most serious. I don't like discussing it, but since you know so much, there is no need for further mystery.

D. JULIAN. None whatever. [_He approaches Pepito eagerly._]

PEPITO. [_After a pause, adopts an ominous air to announce bad news._] It is a matter of life and death. [_Looks round triumphantly. Don Julian and Don Severo start._] The viscount is neither a chicken nor a skulk. He can handle a sword.

D. JULIAN. And the quarrel? What was it? Nebreda is supposed to be——

PEPITO. It was hardly a quarrel. I'll tell you the facts. [_Both men draw near eagerly._] Ernest, you know, means to leave Madrid to-morrow, and take passage in the _Cid_ lying in Cadiz. Luiz Alcaráz had promised him a letter of introduction, and the poor fellow went off to meet him at the _café_ and get it, with the best of intentions. Luiz wasn't there, so he waited. Some of the frequenters of Alcaráz's table, who did not know him, were in the full swing of glorious slander, and did not notice his clenched teeth. A name mentioned meant a reputation blasted. Broad-handed, ready-tongued, every living soul passed in their review. In this asylum of charity, in the midst of more smoke than an express train emits, between lifted glass and dropped cigarette ashes, with here and there a lump of sugar, the marble was converted for the nonce into a dissecting-table: each woman dishonoured, another glass of the old tap: a shout of laughter for each tippler's cut. In four clippings these lads left reputations ragged and the ladies rent to tatters. Yet what did it all come to? They but echoed society at a _café_-table. I don't say all this for myself, nor think it, but 'twas how Ernest spoke when he recounted the quarrel to me.

D. JULIAN. Well, make an end of it.

PEPITO. The end of it is, that between name and name, there was mention of one that Ernest could not endure. 'Who dares to ridicule an honourable man?' he shouts. Somebody retorts: 'a lady,' and names a woman. His head was instantly on fire, and he flings himself upon Nebreda. The poor viscount fell like a ninepin, and there you have an Agramante's camp. The day's business is now a duel—in a room somewhere—I don't know where.

D. JULIAN. [_Seizing his arms._] The man was I!

PEPITO. Sir?

D. JULIAN. And Teodora the woman? How have we fallen—she, myself, our love? [_Sits down and covers his face with both hands._]

SEVERO. What have you done, you blockhead!

PEPITO. Didn't he say he knew all about it? and I naturally believed him.

D. JULIAN. Dishonoured, dishonoured!

SEVERO. [_Approaching him._] Julian, my dear fellow.

D. JULIAN. It is true. I ought to be calm, I know. But what heart can I have when faith is gone? [_Seizes his brother's hand._] Just heaven! Why are we so disgraced? What reason have they to turn and throw mud at us? No matter. I know my duty as a gentleman. I can count on you, Severo?

SEVERO. On me? Till death, Julian. [_They shake hands cordially._]

JULIAN. [_To Pepito._] The duel?

PEPITO. For three o'clock.

JULIAN. [_Aside._] I'll kill him—yes, kill him. Come. [_To Severo._]

SEVERO. Whither?

D. JULIAN. To look for this viscount.

SEVERO. Do you mean——?

D. JULIAN. I mean to do what I ought and can to avenge myself and save Don Juan of Acedo's son. Who are the seconds? [_To Pepito._]

PEPITO. Alcaráz and Rueda.

D. JULIAN. I know them both. Let him stay here [_pointing to Pepito_], so that in the event of Ernest's return——

SEVERO. Of course.

D. JULIAN. [_To Pepito._] Without arousing his suspicion, find out where the duel takes place.

SEVERO. You hear.

D. JULIAN. [_To his brother._] Come.

SEVERO. What's the matter with you, Julian?

D. JULIAN. 'Tis a long while since I've felt so overjoyed. [_Catches Severo's arm feverishly._]

SEVERO. The deuce! overjoyed! You're beside yourself.

D. JULIAN. I shall meet that fellow.

SEVERO. Nebreda?

D. JULIAN. Yes. Observe, until to-day calumny was impalpable. There was no seizing its shape. I have now discovered it, and it has taken a human form. There it is at hand, in the person of a viscount. Swallowing blood and gall for the past three months—the devil!—and now—fancy, face to face—he and I!

[_Exeunt Don Julian and Don Severo._]