y
at one of the ladies. She seemed annoyed, and lowered her eyes. At last
she said to her husband:

"There's a man over there looking at me. I don't know him; do you?"

The husband, who had noticed nothing, glanced across at the offender,
and said:

"No; not in the least."

His wife continued, half smiling, half angry:

"It's very tiresome! He quite spoils my ice cream."

The husband shrugged his shoulders.

"Nonsense! Don't take any notice of him. If we were to bother our heads
about all the ill-mannered people we should have no time for anything
else."

But the vicomte abruptly left his seat. He could not allow this insolent
fellow to spoil an ice for a guest of his. It was for him to take
cognizance of the offence, since it was through him that his friends had
come to the restaurant. He went across to the man and said:

"Sir, you are staring at those ladies in a manner I cannot permit. I
must ask you to desist from your rudeness."

The other replied:

"Let me alone, will you!"

"Take care, sir," said the vicomte between his teeth, "or you will force
me to extreme measures."

The man replied with a single word--a foul word, which could be heard
from one end of the restaurant to the other, and which startled every
one there. All those whose backs were toward the two disputants turned
round; all the others raised their heads; three waiters spun round on
their heels like tops; the two lady cashiers jumped, as if shot, then
turned their bodies simultaneously, like two automata worked by the same
spring.

There was dead silence. Then suddenly a sharp, crisp sound. The vicomte
had slapped his adversary's face. Every one rose to interfere. Cards
were exchanged.

When the vicomte reached home he walked rapidly up and down his room
for some minutes. He was in a state of too great agitation to think
connectedly. One idea alone possessed him: a duel. But this idea aroused
in him as yet no emotion of any kind. He had done what he was bound to
do; he had proved himself to be what he ought to be. He would be talked
about, approved, congratulated. He repeated aloud, speaking as one does
when under the stress of great mental disturbance:

"What a brute of a man!" Then he sat down, and began to reflect. He
would have to find seconds as soon as morning came. Whom should he
choose? He bethought himself of the most influential and best-known
men of his acquaintance. His choice fell at last on the Marquis de la
Tour