Duel, part 3

The next few months passed uneventfully. I worked in my smithy, but I don't have much of a social life. 
I am no longer accepted in 'High Society', because I have killed so many of them. 
No word from my family. Mother and Father avoid me these days, but occasionally my elder brother and sister have some time for me.
I dreamed of Emily only once.
Then I met The Smoking Man. I shall always remember him that way, because I fail to recall his name.

I first met him in Miss Molly's Tea Shop. He was morbidly thin, deathly pale, and smoking a cigarette.
'I don't like the look of that fellow,' I said to Jack, who is, amongst other things, my second.
'Don't go starting trouble, Lloyd,' Jack replied. 'That man is dangerous.'
'As am I.'
'He is a different kind of dangerous... He was some sort of spy, but he got himself caught, spent over ten years in The Bastile. But he got used to it, started to like it, if you know what I mean... Imagine it, he started to like the dark, and hunger, and torture. Eventually, the Frogs gave up, let him go. But he was addicted by then... They say he rents a tiny basement flat, and eats nothing but bread, cheese and gruel.'
'I don't like his face.'
I looked at the Smoking Man, and he looked at me. His snake eyes rolled under his lank hair, his cigarette twitched in this pale lips.
'What are you looking at, sir?' he asked.
'You.'
'What is your problem?'
'I simply would not know where to start...'
'Do you think you are funny sir?'
'I believe I can be witty from time to time.'
His cigarette expired. He spat the butt on the floor, and lit another. Then he stood up. He was tall, and his lanky build, black suit and cloud of smoke made him look taller.
'Gentlemen! No fighting in doors!' Miss Molly called over from the counter.
'Sabre, dawn, tomorrow?' I asked.
'Yes.'
'My usual place? Glade of Yews, Freeman's woods?'
'Yes.'
He stalked out.