a good one. She called me by my
Christian name. She cried fit to break your heart. I can't stand seeing
a woman cry--never could--not whilst I'm fond of her. She said she could
bear not to think of my losing so much money in her house. Wouldn't I
take her diamonds and necklaces, and pay part?

"I swore I wouldn't touch a farthing's worth of her jewellery, which
perhaps I did not think was worth a great deal,--but what can a woman do
more than give you her all? That's the sort I like, and I know there's
plenty of 'em. And I told her to be easy about the money, for I would
not pay one single farthing.

"'Then they'll shoot you,' says she; 'they'll kill my Ferdinand.'"

"They'll kill my Jack wouldn't have sounded well in French," Strong
said, laughing.

"Never mind about names," said the other, sulkily; "a man of honour may
take any name he chooses, I suppose."

"Well, go on with your story," said Strong. "She said they would kill
you."

"'No,' says I, 'they won't: for I will not let that scamp of a Marquis
send me out of the world; and if he lays a hand on me, I'll brain him,
Marquis as he is.'

"At this the Countess shrank back from me as if I had said something
very shocking. 'Do I understand Colonel Altamont aright?' says she: 'and
that a British officer refuses to meet any person who provokes him to
the field of honour?'

"'Field of honour be hanged, Countess,' says I. 'You would not have me
be a target for that little scoundrel's pistol practice.'

"'Colonel Altamont,' says the Countess, 'I thought you were a man
of honour--I thought, I--but no matter. Good-bye, sir.'--And she
was sweeping out of the room, her voice regular choking in her
pocket-handkerchief.

"'Countess!' says I, rushing after her and seizing her hand.

"'Leave me, Monsieur le Colonel,' says she, shaking me off, 'my father
was a General of the Grand Army. A soldier should know how to pay all
his debts of honour.'

"What could I do? Everybody was against me. Caroline said I had lost
the money: though I didn't remember a syllable about the business. I had
taken Deuceace's money too; but then it was because he offered it to me
you know, and that's a different thing. Every one of these chaps was a
man of fashion and honour; and the Marky and the Countess of the first
families in France. And, by Jove, sir, rather than offend her, I paid
the money up five hundred and sixty gold Napoleons, by Jove: besides
three hundred which I lost when I