t made both men leap back
and lay their hands on their weapons. "Neither can I! And if any one
doubts my word, here's my sword to prove it!"

"La Pommeraye!" cried Claude. "Where in Heaven's name did you spring
from?" and the two men seized the hands of the young giant who, in the
attire of a fashionable gallant of the day, with gay-coloured doublet
and hose, richly plumed hat, and surtout trimmed with gold lace, stood
laughing before them.

"Paris, where I was seen lying dead in the streets. How long is it,
Claude, since you have had such a poor opinion of me? I have been put to
strange straits in my day, but I have never yet slept in the streets. Be
thankful I did not leave the two of you to be carried out of this
square in the morning. I came here spoiling for a fight, and had my
sword all ready to begin carving you when Cartier's voice struck me like
a whiff of bracing, salt-sea air. But what great enterprise have you on
hand? Your serious looks bespeak some weighty scheme. Whatever it is, my
sword is at your service."

"I doubt if it would be wise to take such a fire-eating duellist into
our confidence," said Claude, regarding his friend with a smile.

"Now, Claude, that is hardly fair. You know I am no duellist. I merely
fight when I am compelled to, and never without just provocation. For
instance, I had a delightful passage-at-arms last night, but it was no
fault of mine. I was coming across the Sillon when a pretty girl came
towards me with a leisurely step that seemed to say: "I have just been
watching for you." She had a face like a flower, in the moonlight, and I
could not resist snatching a kiss. That was all: but it acted like a
match in a powder magazine. She started back with a cry. Evidently she
had not been waiting for me; and before I could apologise, or take back
the kiss, her lover swooped down upon me with drawn sword."

"I trust," exclaimed Claude, "he let a little of the impudence out of
your gallant hide."

"Not a drop. I know the danger of kissing pretty girls in the public
thoroughfare, and never do it without having my hand on my sword-hilt.
He sprang forward, and I sprang back. The girl was between us, and in
his haste to spit me, he pushed her roughly aside. The slight pause
gave me time to draw my sword. He came at me, blind with fury, but I
was on my guard. A pass or two showed me that I could disarm the fellow
in five minutes. The fair one stood by, mutely wringing her hands, and