came to condole with me on my heavy loss. It is
impossible to describe his amazed expression when I shewed him a handful
of ducats, and assured him that I had spent a very profitable evening in
laying against him. Everybody in the room began to laugh at him, but he
was the sort of young man who doesn't understand a joke, and he went out
in a rage. Soon after I left the billiard-room myself, and, according to
my promise went to see Therese, as I was leaving for Amsterdam the next
day.

Therese was waiting for her young wine merchant, but on my recounting his
adventures she expected him no longer. I took my little daughter on my
knee and lavished my caresses on her, and so left them, telling them that
we should see each other again in the course of three weeks or a month at
latest.

As I was going home in the moonlight by myself, my sword under my arm, I
was encountered all of a sudden by the poor dupe of a burgomaster's son.

"I want to know," said he, "if your sword has as sharp a point as your
tongue."

I tried to quiet him by speaking common sense, and I kept my sword
wrapped in my cloak, though his was bared and directed against me.

"You are wrong to take my jests in such bad part," said I; "however, I
apologize to you."

"No apologies; look to yourself."

"Wait till to-morrow, you will be cooler then, but if you still wish it I
will give you satisfaction in the midst of the billiard-room."

"The only satisfaction you can give me is to fight; I want to kill you."

As evidence of his determination, and to provoke me beyond recall, he
struck me with the flat of his sword, the first and last time in my life
in which I have received such and insult. I drew my sword, but still
hoping to bring him to his senses I kept strictly on the defensive and
endeavoured to make him leave off. This conduct the Dutchman mistook for
fear, and pushed hard on me, lunging in a manner that made me look to
myself. His sword passed through my necktie; a quarter of an inch farther
in would have done my business.

I leapt to one side, and, my danger no longer admitting of my fighting on
the defensive, I lunged out and wounded him in the chest. I thought this
would have been enough for him, so I proposed we should terminate our
engagement.

"I'm not dead yet," said he; "I want to kill you."

This was his watchword; and, as he leapt on me in a paroxysm of rage,
more like a madman than a sensible being, I hit him four times. At the