ut the last part of
my speech hurt him, and he blushed like a girl; while his companions,
drawing their swords, were for cutting me down off-hand. But though
not understanding Paris customs I knew something of fencing, so
throwing my cloak to the ground, I stood on guard. In another minute
we should have been hard at it, but for the fair-haired lad, who,
rushing between us, called on his friends to stand back.

"Put up your swords!" he cried in a tone of command; "the stranger is
not to blame. Your words were harsh, monsieur, but the fault was my
own. I am sorry if you were annoyed."

"Oh," said I, laughing, "there is no great harm done. My jest was a
trifle ill-humoured, but an empty stomach plays havoc with good
manners, and I am looking for my supper."

"Then you must let me be your host, and my silly freak will gain me a
friend instead of an enemy."

He was a pretty boy, and his speech won on me, but I was tired out and
anxious to sleep, so I replied, "A thousand thanks, but I am seeking La
Boule d'Or. Perhaps you can direct me."

I must tell you the street was so badly lighted that we could not see
each other clearly, but at this he stared into my face as if trying to
recall my features and said, "Why, surely you must be----; but I have
been in error once to-night, and no doubt you have reasons for this
disguise. Still, is it safe to go to the inn? The old fox has his
spies out."

"The old fox could come himself if he would but bring a decent supper
with him!" I replied, not understanding in the least what the lad meant.

"_Ma foi!_" cried he, "I have heard of your bravery, but this is sheer
recklessness. And to pretend you have forgotten the inn! I suppose
you don't know me?"

"Not from Adam," I replied testily. "I have only one acquaintance in
Paris, and as for the inn----" but the youngster laughed so heartily
that I could not finish the sentence.

"_Parbleu!_" he cried, handing me my cloak, "this is a richer farce
than mine! 'Tis you who should wear the cap and bells! But come, I
will be your guide to the hostelry you have forgotten."

"Only to the door then, unless you would wish to drive me mad," at
which, laughing again and bidding his companions wait, he led the way
down the street, turning near the bottom into a _cul-de-sac_.

"There is the inn which you have forgotten so strangely," he said, "but
you are playing a dangerous game. There may be a spy in the house."

"There may b