ee thousand feet up."

"Three thousand four hundred," said Gaspard for the sake of disagreeing.

"After all, that is for our seconds to arrange. My friend Epinard of the
Roullens Aerodrome will act for me. He will also instruct me how to
bring serpents to the ground."

"With the idea of cleansing the sky of cauliflowers," said Gaspard, "I
shall proceed to the flying-ground at Dormancourt; Blanchaille, the
instructor there, will receive your friend."

He bowed and walked out.

Details were soon settled. On a date six months ahead the two combatants
would meet three thousand two hundred feet above the little town in which
they lived, and fight to the death. In the event of both crashing, the
one who crashed last would be deemed the victor. It was Gaspard's second
who insisted on this clause; Gaspard himself felt that it did not matter
greatly.

The first month of instruction went by. At the end of it Jacques Rissole
had only one hope. It was that when he crashed he should crash on some of
Gaspard's family. Gaspard had no hope, but one consolation. It was that
no crash could involve his stomach, which he invariably left behind him
as soon as the aeroplane rose.

At the end of the second month Gaspard wrote to Jacques.

"My friend," he wrote, "the hatred of you which I nurse in my bosom, and
which fills me with the desire to purge you from the sky, is in danger of
being transferred to my instructor. Let us therefore meet and renew our
enmity."

Jacques Rissole wrote back to Gaspard.

"My enemy," he wrote, "there is nobody in the whole of the Roullens
Aerodrome whom I do not detest with a detestation beside which my hatred
for you seems as maudlin adoration. This is notwithstanding the fact that
I make the most marvellous progress in the art of flying. It is merely
something in their faces which annoys me. Let me therefore see yours
again, in the hope that it will make me think more kindly of theirs."

They met, poured wine over each other and parted. After another month the
need of a further stimulant was felt. They met again, and agreed to
insult each other weekly.

On the last day of his training Gaspard spoke seriously to his
instructor.

"You see that I make nothing of it," he said. "My thoughts are ever with
the stomach that I leave behind. Not once have I been in a position to
take control. How then can I fight? My friend, I arrange it all. You
shall take my place."

"Is that quite fair to Rissole?"