Colonel must make an apology or fight, for he said, although
Jorrocks was a "Colonel Anglais," still Monsieur Eugene was of the
Legion of Honour, and, consequently, very brave and not to be insulted
with impunity. All this the Yorkshireman interpreted to Mr. Jorrocks,
who was most anxious to fight, and wished it was light that they might
go to work immediately. Mr. Stubbs therefore told the confectioner's
friend (who was also his foreman), that the Colonel would fight him with
pistols at six o'clock in the Bois de Boulogne, but no sooner was the
word "pistols" mentioned than the friend exclaimed, with a grimace and
shrug of his shoulders, "Oh horror, no! Monsieur Adolphe is brave, but
he will not touch pistols--they're not weapons of his country."
Jorrocks then proposed to fight him with broad swords, but this the
confectioner's foreman declined on behalf of his principal, and at last
the Colonel suggested that they could not do better than fight it out
with fists. Now, the confectioner was ten years younger than Jorrocks,
tall, long-armed, and not over-burthened with flesh, and had, moreover,
taken lessons of Harry Harmer, when that worthy had his school in Paris,
so he thought the offer was a good one, and immediately closed with it.
Jorrocks, too, had been a patron of the prize-ring, having studied under
Bill Richmond, the man of colour, and was reported to have exhibited
in early life (incog.) with a pugilist of some pretensions at the
Fives-court, so, all things considered, fists seemed a very proper mode
of settling the matter, and that being agreed upon, each party quitted
the Countess de Jackson's--the confectioner putting forth all manner of
high-flown ejaculations and prayers for success, as he groped about the
ante-room for his hat, and descended the stairs. "Oh! God of war!" said
he, throwing up his hands, "who guided the victorious army of this grand
nation in Egypt, when, from the pyramids, forty centuries beheld our
actions--oh, brilliant sun, who shone upon our armies at Jaffa, at
Naples, Montebello, Marengo, Austerlitz, Jena, and Algiers, who blessed
our endeavours, who knowest that we are brave--brave as a hundred
lions--look down on Charles Adolphe Eugene, and enable him to massacre
and immolate on the altar of his wrath, this sacre-nom de-Dieu'd beastly
hog of an Englishman"--and thereupon he spit upon the flags with all the
venom of a viper.

Jorrocks, too, indulged in a few figures of speech, as he