disappointed artist, had had in his mind a bloodless duel, to
give a fillip to an unacquired fame. He had, however, been drinking. He
flung an insolent glance to meet Gaston's steady look, and said:

"The cock crows of his dunghill!"

Gaston looked at the landlord, then got up calmly and walked down the
table. The Frenchman, expecting he knew not what, sprang to his feet,
snatching up a knife; but Gaston was on him like a hawk, pinioning his
arms and lifting him off the ground, binding his legs too, all so tight
that the Frenchman squealed for breath.

"Monsieur," said Gaston to the landlord, "from the door or the window?"

The landlord was pale. It was in some respects a quarrel of races. For,
French and English at the tables had got up and were eyeing each other.
As to the immediate outcome of the quarrel, there could be no doubt.
The English and Americans could break the others to pieces; but neither
wished that. The landlord decided the matter:

"Drop him from this window."

He pushed a shutter back, and Gaston dropped the fellow on the hard
pavement--a matter of five feet. The Frenchman got up raging, and made
for the door; but this time he was met by the landlord, who gave him his
hat, and bade him come no more. There was applause from both English and
French. The journalist chuckled--another column!

Gaston had acted with coolness and common-sense; and when he sat down
and began talking of the Englishman's picture again as if nothing had
happened, the others followed, and the meal went on cheerfully.

Presently another young English painter entered, and listened to the
conversation, which Gaston brought back to Una and the lions. It was his
way to force things to his liking, if possible; and he wanted to hear
about the woman--why, he did not ask himself. The new arrival, Fancourt
by name, kept looking at him quizzically. Gaston presently said that he
would visit the menagerie and see this famous dompteuse that afternoon.

"She's a brick," said Bagshot. "I was in debt, a year behind with my
Pelletier here, and it took all I got for 'A Passion in the Desert' to
square up. I'd nothing to go on with. I spent my last sou in visiting
the menagerie. There I got an idea. I went to her, told her how I was
fixed, and begged her to give me a chance. By Jingo! she brought the
water to my eyes. Some think she's a bit of a devil; but she can be a
devil of a saint, that's all I've got to say."

"Zoug-Zoug's responsibl