quare of the town,
where we found the troops quartered. As the French officers walked
along our ranks to look at us, I perceived among them a captain, whom we
had known very intimately when we were living at Cette with Colonel
O'Brien. I cried out his name immediately; he turned round, and seeing
O'Brien and me, he came up to us, shaking us by the hand, and expressing
his surprise at finding us in such a situation. O'Brien explained to
him how we had been treated, at which he expressed his indignation, as
did the other officers who had collected round us. The major who
commanded the troops in the town turned to the French officer (he was
only a lieutenant) who had conducted us from Toulon, and demanded of him
his reason for behaving to us in such an unworthy manner. He denied
having treated us ill, and said that he had been informed that we had
put on officers' dresses which did not belong to us. At this O'Brien
declared that he was a liar, and a cowardly _foutre_, that he had struck
him with the back of his sabre, which he dared not have done if he had
not been a prisoner; adding, that all he requested was satisfaction for
the insult offered to him, and appealed to the officers whether, if it
were refused, the lieutenant's epaulets ought not to be cut off his
shoulders. The major commandant and the officers retired to consult,
and, after a few minutes, they agreed that the lieutenant was bound to
give the satisfaction required. The lieutenant replied that he was
ready; but, at the same time, did not appear to be very willing. The
prisoners were left in charge of the soldiers, under a junior officer,
while the others, accompanied by O'Brien, myself, and the lieutenant,
walked to a short distance outside of the town. As we proceeded there,
I asked O'Brien with what weapons they would fight.

"I take it for granted," replied he, "that it will be with the small
sword."

"But," said I, "do you know anything about fencing?"

"Devil a bit, Peter; but that's all in my favour."

"How can that be?" replied I.

"I'll tell you, Peter. If one man fences well, and another is but an
indifferent hand at it, it is clear that the first will run the other
through the body; but if the other knows nothing at all about it, why,
then, Peter, the case is not quite so clear: because the good fencer is
almost as much puzzled by your ignorance as you are by his skill, and
you become on more equal terms. Now, Peter, I've made up