Yes, he would kill one man.

He had a devilish feeling of delight in thinking how he would do it, and how red the sabre would look when he had done it.

He wished he had a hundred hands and a hundred sabres in those hands.

More than once he had been in danger of his life, and yet he had had no fear.
He had in him the power of hatred; and he hated Ferrol as he had never hated anything in his life.

He hated him as much as, in a furtive sort of way, he loved the rebellious, primitive and violent Christine.
As he rode on a hundred fancies passed through his brain, and they all had to do with killing or torturing.