, cutting short Max's
sentence, and motioning towards his two neighbors.

"Now," said Max, "let us go on with the toasts."

The two adversaries had not raised their voices above the tone of
ordinary conversation; there was nothing solemn in the affair except the
dead silence in which it took place.

"Look here, you others!" cried Philippe, addressing the soldiers who
stood behind the officers; "remember that our affairs don't concern the
bourgeoisie--not a word, therefore, on what goes on here. It is for the
Old Guard only."

"They'll obey orders, colonel," said Renard. "I'll answer for them."

"Long live His little one! May he reign over France!" cried Potel.

"Death to Englishmen!" cried Carpentier.

That toast was received with prodigious applause.

"Shame on Hudson Lowe," said Captain Renard.

The dessert passed off well; the libations were plentiful. The
antagonists and their four seconds made it a point of honor that a duel,
involving so large a fortune, and the reputation of two men noted for
their courage, should not appear the result of an ordinary squabble. No
two gentlemen could have behaved better than Philippe and Max; in this
respect the anxious waiting of the young men and townspeople grouped
about the market-place was balked. All the guests, like true soldiers,
kept silence as to the episode which took place at dessert. At ten
o'clock that night the two adversaries were informed that the sabre
was the weapon agreed upon by the seconds; the place chosen for the
rendezvous was behind the chancel of the church of the Capuchins at
eight o'clock the next morning. Goddet, who was at the banquet in his
quality of former army surgeon, was requested to be present at the
meeting. The seconds agreed that, no matter what might happen, the
combat should last only ten minutes.

At eleven o'clock that night, to Colonel Bridau's amazement, Monsieur
Hochon appeared at his rooms just as he was going to bed, escorting
Madame Hochon.

"We know what has happened," said the old lady, with her eyes full of
tears, "and I have come to entreat you not to leave the house to-morrow
morning without saying your prayers. Lift your soul to God!"

"Yes, madame," said Philippe, to whom old Hochon made a sign from behind
his wife's back.

"That is not all," said Agathe's godmother. "I stand in the place of
your poor mother, and I divest myself, for you, of a thing which I hold
most precious,--here," she went on, holding to