zimart is satisfied," said I to
Vincent, and retired to a short distance.

"His second," said Vincent, (after a brief conference with that person,)
"replies to my question, that Monsieur D'Azimart's wound has left him,
for the present, no alternative." Upon this answer I took Vincent's arm,
and we returned forthwith to my carriage.

"I congratulate you most sincerely on the event of this duel," said
Vincent. "Monsieur de M--(D'Azimart's second) informed me, when I waited
on him, that your antagonist was one of the most celebrated pistol shots
in Paris, and that a lady with whom he had been long in love, made the
death of the chain-bearer the price of her favours. Devilish lucky for
you, my good fellow, that his hand trembled so; but I did not know you
were so good a shot."

"Why," I answered, "I am not what is vulgarly termed 'a crack shot'--I
cannot split a bullet on a penknife; but I am sure of a target somewhat
smaller than a man: and my hand is as certain in the field as it is in
the practice-yard."

"Le sentiment de nos forces les augmente," replied Vincent. "Shall I
tell the coachman to drive to the Rocher?"

CHAPTER XXIX.

Here's a kind host, that makes the invitation, To your own cost to his
fort bon collation.--Wycherly's Gent. Dancing Master.

Vous pouvez bien juger que je n'aurai pas grande peine a me consoler
d'une chose donc je me suis deja console tant de fois.--Lettres de
Boileau.

As I was walking home with Vincent from the Rue Mont-orgueil, I saw, on
entering the Rue St. Honore, two figures before us; the tall and noble
stature of the one I could not for a moment mistake. They stopped at the
door of an hotel, which opened in that noiseless manner so peculiar
to the Conciergerie of France. I was at the porte the moment they
disappeared, but not before I had caught a glance of the dark locks and
pale countenance of Warburton--my eye fell upon the number of the hotel.

"Surely," said I, "I have been in that house before."

"Likely enough," growled Vincent, who was gloriously drunk. "It is
a house of two-fold utility--you may play with cards, or coquet with
women, selon votre gout."

At these words I remembered the hotel and its inmates immediately. It
belonged to an old nobleman, who, though on the brink of the grave, was
still grasping at the good things on the margin. He lived with a pretty
and clever woman, who bore the name and honours of his wife. They kept
up two salons, one pour