“‘I said _shame_!’ replied the other, boldly. ‘And I repeat, monsieur is in the wrong.’
“By this time the bystanders had gathered round, and I heard whispers of—‘Mind what you do; it’s a Grey Musketeer; fighting is his trade;’ and such friendly warnings; while old Bouchon rushed in with his face as white as his apron, and taking the youth by the arm, exclaimed in trembling accents, ‘Do you know what you’re about, in Heaven’s name? It’s Flanconnade, I tell you. It’s the fencing-master to the company!’
“Our poor friend appeared so pleased with this homage that I almost thought he would be pacified; but you remember his maxim—‘Put yourself in the right first, and then keep your arm bent and your point low.’ He acted on it now.
“‘Monsieur is prepared for results?’ he asked, quietly; and raising the tumbler in his hand, dashed its contents into his antagonist’s face.”
There was a murmur of applause amongst the Musketeers, for whom such an argument combined all the elements of reasoning, and Bras-de-Fer proceeded.
“I rose now, for I saw the affair would march rapidly. ‘It is good lemonade,’ said the young man, licking his lips, while he wiped the liquor from his face. ‘Monsieur has given me a lesson in politeness. He will permit me in return to demand five minutes’ attention while I teach him to dance.’
“The youth’s coolness, I could not but admit, was that of a well-bred man, and surprised me the more because, when he opened his cloak to get at his handkerchief, I perceived he wore no weapon, and was dressed in plain dark garments like a scholar or a priest.
“Flanconnade winked at me. There was plenty of moonlight in the garden behind the coffee-house, but there were two difficulties—the youth had no second and no sword.
“By great good fortune, at this moment in stepped young Chateau-Guerrand of the Duc du Maine’s dragoons, with his arm still in a sling, from the wound he received at Brighuega, when serving on his uncle’s staff. He had been supping with the Prince-Marshal, and of course was in full-dress, with a rapier at his belt. He accepted the duty willingly, and lent our youth the weapon he could not use. We measured their swords. They were right to a hair’s-breadth, but that the guard of Chateau-Guerrand’s hilt was open; and as he and I could not possibly exchange a pass or two for love, we set ourselves to watch the affair with interest, fearing only that Flanconnade’s skill would finish it almost ere it had well commenced.