ilippe.

"It's coming!" whispered Kouski to his neighbor.

"The Paris police would never allow a banquet of this kind," said
Potel to Philippe.

"Why do the devil to you mention the police to Colonel Bridau?" said
Maxence insolently.

"Captain Potel--_he_--meant no insult," said Philippe, smiling coldly.
The stillness was so profound that the buzzing of a fly could have
been heard if there had been one.

"The police were sufficiently afraid of me," resumed Philippe, "to
send me to Issoudun,--a place where I have had the pleasure of meeting
old comrades, but where, it must be owned, there is a dearth of
amusement. For a man who doesn't despise folly, I'm rather restricted.
However, it is certainly economical, for I am not one of those to whom
feather-beds give incomes; Mariette of the Grand Opera cost me
fabulous sums."

"Is that remark meant for me, my dear colonel?" asked Max, sending a
glance at Philippe which was like a current of electricity.

"Take it as you please," answered Bridau.

"Colonel, my two friends here, Renard and Potel, will call to-morrow
on--"

"--on Mignonnet and Carpentier," answered Philippe, cutting short
Max's sentence, and motioning towards his two neighbors.

"Now," said Max, "let us go on with the toasts."

The two adversaries had not raised their voices above the tone of
ordinary conversation; there was nothing solemn in the affair except
the dead silence in which it took place.

"Look here, you others!" cried Philippe, addressing the soldiers who
stood behind the officers; "remember that our affairs don't concern
the bourgeoisie--not a word, therefore, on what goes on here. It is
for the Old Guard only."

"They'll obey orders, colonel," said Renard. "I'll answer for them."

"Long live His little one! May he reign over France!" cried Potel.

"Death to Englishmen!" cried Carpentier.

That toast was received with prodigious applause.

"Shame on Hudson Lowe," said Captain Renard.

The dessert passed off well; the libations were plentiful. The
antagonists and their four seconds made it a point of honor that a
duel, involving so large a fortune, and the reputation of two men
noted for their courage, should not appear the result of an ordinary
squabble. No two gentlemen could have behaved better than Philippe and
Max; in this respect the anxious waiting of the young men and
townspeople grouped about the market-place was balked. All the guests,
like true soldiers, kept silen