he officers of the law put him rather
rudely aside and claimed precedence for their prisoner.

But when M. le Commissaire, who was there, seated at a table opposite
his _greffier_, rose and bowed stiffly, inquiring our business, my
lord pushed forward into the front and began very warmly, in passable
French:

"I am an aggrieved person seeking justice on a wrong-doer. I--demand
justice of you--"

"_Pardon, monsieur, je vous prie._ We must proceed in order, and first
allow me to assure you that justice is always done in France. No one
need claim it in the tone you have assumed."

The Commissary was a solemn person, full of the stiff formality
exhibited by members of the French magistracy, the juniors especially.
He was dressed in discreet black, his clean-shaven, imperturbable face
showed over a stiff collar, and he wore the conventional white tie of
the French official.

"Allow me to ask--" he went on coldly.

"I will explain in a few words," began my lord, replying hurriedly.

"Stay, monsieur, it is not from you that I seek explanation. It is the
duty of the officers of the law now present, and prepared, I presume,
to make their report. Proceed, sergeant."

"But you must hear me, M. le Commissary; I call upon and require you
to do so. I have been shamefully ill-used by that man there." He
shook his finger at the Colonel. "He has violently assaulted me. I am
Lord Blackadder, an English peer. I am entitled to your best
consideration."

"Every individual, the poorest, meanest, is entitled to that in
republican France. You shall have it, sir, but only as I see fit to
accord it. I must first hear the story from my own people. Go on,
sergeant."

"I protest," persisted my lord. "You must attend to me--you shall
listen to me. I shall complain to your superiors--I shall bring the
matter before the British ambassador. Do you realize who and what I
am?"

"You appear to be a gentleman with an uncontrollable temper, whose
conduct is most improper. I must ask you to behave yourself, to
respect the _convenances_, or I shall be compelled to show you the
door."

"I will not be put down in this way, I will speak; I--I--"

"Silence, monsieur. I call upon you, explicitly, to moderate your tone
and pay proper deference to my authority." With this the commissary
pulled out a drawer, extracted a tricolour sash and slowly buckled it
round his waist, then once more turned interrogatively to the
sergeant:

"It is nothing ver