Moreover, he had not been able to get rid of an uncomfortable
consciousness, even in his most angry mood, that his endeavouring to
compass de Sigognac's assassination was rather too great an enormity,
not on account of any conscientious scruples, but simply because his
rival was a gentleman; he would not have hesitated a second about having
half-a-dozen bourgeois murdered, if they had been rash or unfortunate
enough to interfere with him, the blood of such base, ignoble
creature being of no more consequence in his eyes than so much
water. Vallombreuse would have liked to despatch his enemy himself
in honourable combat, but that was rendered impossible by the baron's
superior ability as a swordsman, of which he still had a painful
reminder in his wounded arm; which was scarcely healed yet, and would
prevent his indulging in anything like a duel for some time to come. So
his thoughts turned to the abduction of the young actress; a pleasanter
subject to dwell upon, as he felt not the slightest doubt that once he
had her to himself, separated from de Sigognac and her companions, she
would not long be able to withstand his eloquent pleading and personal
attractions. His self-conceit was boundless, but not much to be wondered
at, considering his invariable and triumphant success in affairs of
gallantry; so, in spite of his recent repulse, he flattered himself that
he only required a fitting opportunity to obtain from Isabelle all that
he desired.
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