He weighed the cause of these repeated attacks upon him by his superior, and could at once divine the cause of them.  That was obvious to his mind at the first glance.  He could not but perceive the strong preference that General Harero evinced for Isabella Gonzales, nor could he disguise the fact to his own heart that she cared not a farthing for him.  It required but a very simple capacity to understand this; any party, not interested in the general’s favor, could easily discern it.  But the general counted upon his high rank, and also upon the fact that his family was a good one, though his purse was not very long.

Lorenzo Bezan remembered not alone the annoyance of that evening.  He had not yet forgotten the insult from the general in the Paseo, and coupling that with other events, he saw very well that his commanding officer was decidedly jealous of him.  He saw, too, that there was not any chance of matters growing any better, but that on the contrary they must continue to grow worse and worse, since be had determined, come what might, he should pursue his love with the fair lady Isabella.

Could he bear to be insulted thus at every turn by such a man as General Harero?  No!  He felt himself, in courage, intellectual endowments, birth, ay, everything but the rank of a soldier, to be more than his equal.  His heart beat quickly when he recollected that the latter taunt and threat had been given in the presence of Don Gonzales and his daughter.  The malignity, the unfairness of this attack upon him at this time, was shameful, and deserved to be punished.  Brooding upon these things alone and at a late hour of the night, he at last wrought himself up to such a point, perhaps in some degree aggravated by his late wounds, which were hardly yet healed, that he determined he would challenge General Harero to martial and mortal conflict.

True this was preposterous in one of his rank, as contending against another so vastly his superior in position and influence; but his feelings had begun to assume an uncontrollable character; he could not bear to think that he had been thus insulted before Isabella Gonzales.  It seemed to him that she would think less of him if he did not resent and punish such an insult.  In the heat of his resentment, therefore, he sat down and wrote to his superior as follows: 

“General Harero:  Sir-Having received, at different periods and under peculiar circumstances, insults from you that neither become me as a gentleman tamely to submit to, nor you as a soldier to give, I do hereby demand satisfaction.  It would be worse than folly in me to pretend that I do not understand the incentive that governs you-the actuating motive that has led to these attacks upon me.  In my duty as an officer I have never failed in the least; this you know very well, and have even allowed before now, to my very face.  Your attacks upon me are, therefore, plainly traceable to a spirit of jealousy as to my better success with the Senorita Gonzales than yourself.  Unless I greatly mistake, the lady herself has discovered this spirit within your breast.