A coward boy

Mike was the son of a rich aristocratic family that raised him in luxury. He was a man of fine looks, and of noble bearing, and of personal attractions to the female, and of being a prominent character in society. He was handsome, with a languid smile, a proud mustache, and flirtatious eyes that many found irresistible. He was a very witty and polite person and thus was quite fashionable for parties and such events. Women saw him as a charming man and men looked at him as if wishing they could be him because of his physique and his alleged womanizing ways. He was also a master duelist with sword and pistol and often said that if he chose to fight with someone he would prefer to use pistols.

One evening, Mike took two young ladies together with their husbands to the theater. Tortoni’s was the place where they went to for refreshment after the performance. As they were having their ices Mike saw a man looking very intensely at one of the ladies there. The lady then expressed her disappointment to her husband about the stranger’s behaviour, who replied that it was just a minor inconvenience. But Mike took it as a personal insult because the man was rude to them while they were in his restaurant, which he felt obliged to correct since he had invited them there.

Mike went up to the man and politely requested him to stop the staring. The man replied cockily and aggressively leading to a tense confrontation. Mike could not stand it and spat at the man. Their eyes met in an intense look as the whole cafe became silent. Rivalry grew as they swapped cards to initiate a fight.

He was calm initially when he returned home since he had accomplished his personal duty. He decided to walk around his room and figure out what to do with the duel and how to search for seconds. He chose the Marquis de la Tour-Noire and Colonel Bourdin, thinking that the affluent names would be beneficial for his image. He was quite composed, but somewhere deep down he had a feeling something was amiss. He poured himself another glass of water and firmly declared himself that he would use pistols, because the other guy would see how serious he was about this challenge and back down.

Mike examined the card the stranger had given him: 51 rue Moncey, Georges Lamil’ The name was ominous and yet aroused a kind of euphoric curiosity in him. Who was this man and what he had been looking in such a contemptuous manner at the lady? And as he considered these thoughts he began to worry. He thought up different versions of the duel and was filled with self-assurance and hesitation. He chose pistols in the belief that his opponents would not dare to face him with pistols or would refuse to engage him in the first place.

The next day, Mike spent the whole night tossing and turning in bed. He slept restlessly and dreams of the duel and the possible consequences of that duel haunted him. He thought about it and wondered if he was brave enough to do so or whether his fear would get the better of him? He thought of losing his coolness with his opponent or even passing out, which was unacceptable in his career. He was constantly afraid and terrified of almost every sound that was being made and the feeling that he might go crazy.

Restless throughout the night, he finally got up and lit a candle and gazed at his reflection. His pale, worried visage evoked further fear. He pictured the same thing in his mind – he was dead and in a coffin – and that made him shudder. It dawned on him that he was a prisoner of his high class, and his reputation depended on the outcome of the duel. He walked into the smoking room, and after lighting a cigar, attempted to quieten himself. There was a short pause and a hope of a new day that took a positive turn.

Before Mike awoke the next morning he had the Marquis and the Colonel as his seconds and they accepted his terms for a serious duel in the morning with pistols. They went away to prepare the arrangements promising that everything would be right. Mike emerged from the mausoleum and looked around; the anxiety he felt individually was even stronger. He was to remain still, but he felt a constant shaking of his body. He consumed rum to calm himself down but the effect of rum ended up making him even more nervous.

This form of public humiliation was very shameful for Mike. He knew that any trace of cowardliness would be the end of his reputation. He became more desperate each night as darkness set in. When his seconds passed back to him to report on the terms of the duel, he just whispered his answers trying not to sound frightened. This left Mike on the edge emotionally; he was about to go crazy. He could not concentrate on writing the letters or making all the final arrangements.

Exhausted and unable to stand up to Lamil, Mike checked one of his 4 pistols. That it was loaded, left him with a sense of relief that was not very pleasant. He could sense that any exposure of fear during the duel would brand him for the rest of his life as a weakling. Mike was discouraged and one day decided that it would be better to die than live with the shame of losing his men. Buried the gun to his mouth and fired.

His valet heard a loud noise that was the sound of the gunshot and he went in to find a bleeding body of Monsieur de la Tourelle lying on his back on a piece of paper with which he had started his will. The death of Viscount Mike serves as a clear testimony of the dangers of fear and the nobility’s chivalrous system of honour.