, by any chance, had
degenerated into the fire-eater; more quiet, unassuming manners it was
impossible to meet with, and, in the various anecdotes I have heard of
him, I have always traced a degree of forbearance, that men of less known
bravery might not venture to practise. At the same time, when once
roused by any thing like premeditated insult--or pre-determined affront
--he became almost ungovernable, and it would be safer to beard the lion
in his den than cross his path. Among the many stories, and there were a
great many current in his regiment concerning him, there was one so
singularly characteristic of the man, that, as I have passingly mentioned
his name here, I may as well relate it; at the same time premising that,
as it is well known, I may only be repeating an often-heard tale to many
of my readers.

When the regiment to which Trevanion belonged became part of the army of
occupation in Paris, he was left at Versailles seriously ill from the
effects of a sabre-wound he received at Waterloo, and from which his
recovery at first was exceedingly doubtful. At the end of several weeks,
however, he became out of danger, and was able to receive the visits of
his brother officers, whenever they were fortunate enough to obtain a
day's leave of absence, to run down and see him. From them he learned
that one of his oldest friends in the regiment had fallen in a duel,
during the time of his illness, and that two other officers were
dangerously wounded--one of whom was not expected to survive. When he
inquired as to the reasons of these many disasters, he was informed that
since the entrance of the allies into Paris, the French officers, boiling
with rage and indignation at their recent defeat, and smarting under the
hourly disgrace which the presence of their conquerors suggested, sought
out, by every means in their power, opportunities of insult; but always
so artfully contrived as to render the opposite party the challenger,
thus reserving to themselves the choice of weapons. When therefore it
is borne in mind that the French are the most expert swordsmen in Europe,
little doubt can exist as to the issue of these combats; and, in fact,
scarcely a morning passed without three or four English or Prussian
officers being carried through the Barriere de l'Etoile, if not dead, at
least seriously wounded, and condemned to carry with them through life
the inflictions of a sanguinary and savage spirit of revenge.

Whil