He replied with a smile, "I am prepared for anything, my dear sir. Least
of all, perhaps, for justice at this moment."

"It is what you least deserve," I said, "since it is what you practise
least; but there are circumstances at work in your favour. You must,
however, confess yourself a liar. That is indispensable. Come now, what
do you say?" At this moment Malcolm came back with a red sword.

"I have paid him in his own coin," he said, "but I think we had best be
off."

"Go, my dear Malcolm," I told him. "Do not delay a moment. I shall not
leave Florence in any case."

"Are you mad, my dear?" he cried. I said that I had no notion whether I
was mad or not; but that I had work to do in Florence, and intended to
finish it. I persuaded him at last to get away to Lucca at once, where I
hoped to join him. The doctor came up to report Semifonte quite dead.

I returned to the count, who said to me, "Every man over forty is, and
must be, a liar, since, in a sense, his very existence is a lie. If it
will satisfy you, I will assure you that I am over forty."

I accepted that periphrasis. "And now," I said, "I will tell you to whom
you owe your life. It is to that lady whom you have dared to traduce--to
her and no other. I gather that you will not repeat your slander."

"I promise you that, sir," said he. "But I am curious to learn how Donna
Aurelia can have interceded."