"

"If she has no father or brother," sneered Lazet, "she has her lovers,
and that suffices."

The insulting words, "her lovers," enraged Gaston beyond control; he
slapped Lazet violently in the face.

Everyone in the cafe simultaneously uttered a cry of terror. Lazet's
violence of character, his herculean strength and undaunted courage,
were well known. He sprang across the table between them, and seized
Gaston by the throat. Then arose a scene of excitement and confusion.
Clameran's friend, attempting to assist him, was knocked down with
billiard-cues, and kicked under a table.

Equally strong and agile, Gaston and Lazet struggled for some minutes
without either gaining an advantage.

Lazet, as loyal as he was courageous, would not accept assistance from
his friends. He continually called out:

"Keep away; let me fight it out alone!"

But the others were too excited to remain inactive spectators of the
scene.

"A quilt!" cried one of them, "a quilt to make the marquis jump!"

Five or six young men now rushed upon Gaston, and separated him from
Lazet. Some tried to throw him down, others to trip him up.

He defended himself with the energy of despair, exhibiting in his
furious struggles a strength of which he himself had not been conscious.
He struck right and left as he showered fierce epithets upon his
adversaries for being twelve against one.

He was endeavoring to get around the billiard-table so as to be near the
door, and had almost succeeded, when an exultant cry arose:

"Here is the quilt! the quilt!" they cried.

"Put him in the quilt, the pretty fairy's lover!"

Gaston heard these cries. He saw himself overcome, and suffering an
ignoble outrage at the hands of these enraged men.

By a dexterous movement he extricated himself from the grasp of the
three who were holding him, and felled a fourth to the ground.

His arms were free; but all his enemies returned to the charge.

Then he seemed to lose his head, and, seizing a knife which lay on the
table where the travelling agents had been dining, he plunged it into
the breast of the first man who rushed upon him.

This unfortunate man was Jules Lazet. He dropped to the ground.

There was a second of silent stupor.

Then four or five of the young men rushed forward to raise Lazet. The
landlady ran about wringing her hands, and screaming with fright. Some
of the assailants rushed into the street shouting, "Murder! Murder!"

The others once