he "affair" between Monsieur Vernier
and the apostle of Saint-Simonism. Never before had the tragic event of
a duel been so much as heard of in that benign and happy valley.

"Monsieur Mitouflet, I am to fight to-morrow with Monsieur Vernier,"
said Gaudissart to his landlord. "I know no one here: will you be my
second?"

"Willingly," said the host.

Gaudissart had scarcely finished his dinner before Madame Fontanieu
and the assistant-mayor of Vouvray came to the Soleil d'Or and took
Mitouflet aside. They told him it would be a painful and injurious thing
to the whole canton if a violent death were the result of this affair;
they represented the pitiable distress of Madame Vernier, and conjured
him to find some way to arrange matters and save the credit of the
district.

"I take it all upon myself," said the sagacious landlord.

In the evening he went up to the traveller's room carrying pens, ink,
and paper.

"What have you got there?" asked Gaudissart.

"If you are going to fight to-morrow," answered Mitouflet, "you had
better make some settlement of your affairs; and perhaps you have
letters to write,--we all have beings who are dear to us. Writing
doesn't kill, you know. Are you a good swordsman? Would you like to get
your hand in? I have some foils."

"Yes, gladly."

Mitouflet returned with foils and masks.

"Now, then, let us see what you can do."

The pair put themselves on guard. Mitouflet, with his former prowess as
grenadier of the guard, made sixty-two passes at Gaudissart, pushed him
about right and left, and finally pinned him up against the wall.

"The deuce! you are strong," said Gaudissart, out of breath.

"Monsieur Vernier is stronger than I am."

"The devil! Damn it, I shall fight with pistols."

"I advise you to do so; because, if you take large holster pistols and
load them up to their muzzles, you can't risk anything. They are SURE to
fire wide of the mark, and both parties can retire from the field with
honor. Let me manage all that. Hein! 'sapristi,' two brave men would be
arrant fools to kill each other for a joke."

"Are you sure the pistols will carry WIDE ENOUGH? I should be sorry to
kill the man, after all," said Gaudissart.

"Sleep in peace," answered Mitouflet, departing.

The next morning the two adversaries, more or less pale, met beside the
bridge of La Cise. The brave Vernier came near shooting a cow which was
peaceably feeding by the roadside.

"Ah, you fired in