But O'Moy went headlong on. "And another thing. Where will I be
finding a friend to meet your friends? Who will dare to act for me
in view of that enactment?"
The Count considered. He was grave now. "Of course that is a
difficulty," he admitted, as if he perceived it now for the first
time. "Under the circumstances, Sir Terence, and entirely to
accommodate you, I might consent to dispense with seconds."
"Dispense with seconds?" Sir Terence was horrified at the suggestion.
"You know that that is irregular - that a charge of murder would lie
against the survivor."
"Oh, quite so. But it is for your own convenience that I suggest
it, though I appreciate your considerate concern on the score of
what may happen to me afterwards should it come to be known that I
was your opponent."
"Afterwards? After what?"
"After I have killed you."
"And is it like that?" cried O'Moy, his countenance inflaming again,
his mind casting all prudence to the winds.
It followed, of course, that without further thought for anything
but the satisfaction of his rage Sir Terence became as wax in the
hands of Samoval's desires.
"Where do you suggest that we meet?" he asked.
"There is my place at Bispo.
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