e eyes had been merely for a moment lifted from his
paper, again fell, and he appeared to take no notice whatever of the
extraordinary proximity of the Frenchman, still less of the savage and
insulting character of his looks.

Le Capitaine, having thus failed to bring on the eclaircissement he
sought for, proceeded to accomplish it by other means; for, taking the
lamp, by the light of which Trevanion was still reading, he placed it at
his side of the table, and at the same instant stretching across his arm,
he plucked the newspaper from his hand, giving at the same moment a
glance of triumph towards the bystanders, as though he would say, "you
see what he must submit to." Words cannot describe the astonishment of
the British officers, as they beheld Trevanion, under this gross and open
insult, content himself by a slight smile and half bow, as if returning
a courtesy, and then throw his eyes downward, as if engaged in deep
thought, while the triumphant sneer of the French, at this unaccountable
conduct, was absolutely maddening to them to endure.

But their patience was destined to submit to stronger proof, for at this
instant le Capitaine stretched forth one enormous leg, cased in his
massive jack-boot, and with a crash deposited the heel upon the foot of
their friend Trevanion. At length he is roused, thought they, for a
slight flush of crimson flitted across his cheek, and his upper lip
trembled with a quick spasmodic twitching; but both these signs were over
in a second, and his features were as calm and unmoved as before, and his
only appearance of consciousness of the affront, was given by his drawing
back his chair and placing his legs beneath it, as for protection.

This last insult, and the tame forbearance with which it was submitted
to, produced all their opposite effects upon the by-standers, and
looks of ungovernable rage and derisive contempt were every moment
interchanging; indeed, were it not for the all-absorbing interest which
the two great actors in the scene had concentrated upon themselves, the
two parties must have come at once into open conflict.

The clock of the cafe struck nine, the hour at which Gendemar always
retired, so calling to the waiter for his petit verre of brandy, he
placed his newspaper upon the table, and putting both his elbows upon it,
and his chin upon his hands, he stared full in Trevanion's face, with a
look of the most derisive triumph, meant to crown the achievement of