_eau d'aff_), or I'll make you dance without music," he added, with a
hoarse and brutal laugh.

"Oh, Heaven! I have no money," replied Goualeuse, trembling from head to
foot, for this man was the dread of the district.

"If you're stumped, the ogress of the _tapis-franc_ will give you tick
for your pretty face."

"She won't; I already owe her for the clothes I'm wearing."

"What, you want to shirk it?" shouted the Chourineur, darting after La
Goualeuse, who had hid herself in a gully as murk as midnight.

"Now, then, my lady, I've got you!" said the vagabond, after groping
about for a few moments, and grasping in one of his coarse and powerful
hands a slim and delicate wrist; "and now for the dance I promised you."

"No, it is _you_ who shall dance!" was uttered by a masculine and deep
voice.

"A man! Is't you, Bras Rouge? Speak, why don't you? and don't squeeze so
hard. I am here in the entrance to your 'ken,' and you it must be."

"'Tis not Bras Rouge!" said the voice.

"Oh! isn't it? Well, then, if it is not a friend, why, here goes at
you," exclaimed the Chourineur. "But whose bit of a hand is it I have
got hold of? It must be a woman's!"

"It is the fellow to this," responded the voice.

And under the delicate skin of this hand, which grasped his throat with
sudden ferocity, the Chourineur felt himself held by nerves of iron.
The Goualeuse, who had sought refuge in this alley, and lightly ascended
a few steps, paused for an instant, and said to her unknown defender,
"Thanks, sir, for having taken my part. The Chourineur said he would
strike me because I could not pay for his glass of brandy; but I think
he only jested. Now I am safe, pray let him go. Take care of yourself,
for he is the Chourineur."

"If he be the Chourineur, I am a bully boy who never knuckles down,"
exclaimed the unknown.

All was then silent for a moment, and then were heard for several
seconds, in the midst of the pitchy darkness, sounds of a fierce
struggle.

"Who the devil is this?" then said the ruffian, making a desperate
effort to free himself from his adversary, whose extraordinary power
astonished him. "Now, then, now you shall pay both for La Goualeuse and
yourself!" he shouted, grinding his teeth.

"Pay! yes, I will pay you, but it shall be with my fists; and it shall
be cash in full," replied the unknown.

"If," said the Chourineur, in a stifled voice, "you do but let go my
neckcloth, I will bite your nose off."