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know your name, but I know you followed me to this dreadful place to take care of me--and you have treated me with the utmost respect, Monsieur, and have not dared to reprove or threaten me, and I thank you for that, too!" She gave a sidelong glance out of her eloquent eyes at Gaston Cheverny, that I would not have had her give me for the best horse in the king's stables. The young man did not relish it, and straightway undertook to make me responsible for his chagrin. He scowled at me when I made my bow to Mademoiselle Capello, and attempted to divide the honor with me of putting her in the coach, which, after all, old Peter did. The door slammed, the coach rattled off, with Peter upon the box, and Mademoiselle Capello sitting in offended majesty within. CHAPTER IV IN BEAUTY'S QUARREL My young cock-a-hoop and I being left facing each other on the pavement of the court, he said to me, with a terrific scowl in his handsome bright young face: "Who are you, sir?" "Babache," said I. "Captain of Uhlans in the body-guard of Count Saxe." "Well, Babache," continues my young man, twirling his snuff-box as he had probably seen some older man do, "you were infernally in my way just now." "Was I?" answered I. "Why did you not tell me at the time? I would have gone and jumped into the Seine--" and as I spoke, I flipped the snuff-box out of his hand. I never saw a youngster in a greater rage. Like Mademoiselle Capello, a minute before, he hated to be treated like a child. "Sir," said he, "you shall eat your words." "Sir," I replied, "I have supped already; and besides, I never had any appetite for that dish." With that he whipped out his sword, and I said, holding up my hand: "My lad, I am willing to fight, if that is what you are after; but being much older and wiser than you, I will tell you that our quarrel must not in any way relate to the young lady who has just been rescued from a very painful predicament. Suppose we quarrel about Count Saxe?" "With all my heart," responds Gaston Cheverny. "He is, as you know, the greatest man that ever lived," said I. "Monsieur," replied my young game chick, very politely, "I thought him a great man up to this very moment and felt honored by his notice--for I know him--but since I hear he is a friend and patron of yours, I swear I think he is the veriest poltroon, the ugliest man, the stupidest oaf I ever saw." "Thank you," said I. "Kindly name t
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