The Europe That Was by Geoffrey Household

ought to understand his point of view without having it explained all over again.
    â€˜I do, Rob,’ I assured him. ‘You object to bloodshed, but you will be delighted to put on the gloves with him, cut his eyes open and knock out his front teeth.’
    â€˜At least I shouldn’t risk killing him.’
    â€˜Who’s asking you to kill him? You surely don’t think there is any risk in a modern duel? It’s against the law, and nobody wants to be run in.’
    â€˜I don’t understand,’ said Rob. ‘Then why bother with it?’
    â€˜Why bother with a carriage and pair when you could use a car? I do wish you’d believe that Magda and I are only trying to help.’
    He remarked that he considered my influence very bad forMagda—in a proprietary tone which was thoroughly promising—and then he said:
    â€˜But I don’t know the drill. Would you yourself second me or whatever it’s called?’
    â€˜Of course. An honour.’
    â€˜And what do I fight him with?’
    â€˜In principle you can choose.’
    â€˜Well, I did a course of bayonet fighting once. Can I have a go at him with rifle and bayonet?’
    That should have warned me. I should have spotted that slow rising of fury to the brain which the English call logic. But I thought he was just being perverse.
    â€˜No, you can’t! It has to be pistols, so that you can fire in the air if you wish.’
    â€˜What’s the good of a duel then?’
    â€˜The point is, Rob, that he will fire in the air and so will you. But you can’t count on it.’
    â€˜If I can’t count on it, I’m damned if I do it. I should look a silly clot blazing off at the sky while he’s aiming at six o’clock on the bull. If I’m going to fight him at all, I’ll fight him square. How about swords?’
    I insisted that swords were out of the question, but he knew that was not strictly true and kept on bullying me until I had to tell him what the convention really was.
    â€˜The épée is not used because people will get hurt with it. Only the fleurette is allowed. That’s just a foil with the button off. But don’t choose it, Rob,’ I begged him, ‘if you can’t fence. You’ll make it so hard for him just to prick you.’
    â€˜I’ll make it hard for him all right. What about sabres, Stephen?’
    I explained that sabres were not for society affairs. They were only used by brutally angry military men—who could keep accidents fairly quiet and be punished by court martial rather than the criminal law.
    â€˜Do you want to spend some years in gaol?’ I asked him. ‘Duelling is forbidden, Rob, just like drinking after midnight in England. If it isn’t done decently, the police have to take action.’
    â€˜I don’t give a damn,’ he said. ‘They started it, and they’re going to get it. Sabres it is.’
    â€˜But how good are you?’
    â€˜Better than anything else. I used to do a lot of singlestick as a boy. You teach me the proper salute, and then I’ll wade in.’
    Wade in. Those were his words. I can hear them now. I was appalled at such bluntness in an affair which had to be handled with the utmost discretion.
    â€˜Look here,’ said Rob, ‘if you won’t let me pick my own weapon I’ll walk up to that captain and slap the face powder off his blue chin! Then he can choose machine-guns if he likes, and God help him!’
    That silenced me. I had to agree to deliver his challenge. And, after all, if Rob could really use a sabre—singlestick meant nothing to me—it might for once be safer than the fleurette. The only concession I could get from him was that he would fence with me at my flat next day just to put my mind at rest.
    I drove round to call on the captain and performed the formalities. His company was on guard duty at the Royal Palace, and the honour had gone