that his blood was boiling with suppressed rage. At last he could restrain himself no longer, and burst out violently: “Oh! Vidalinc, this is too outrageously aggravating! to think that that contemptible, lean stork, who has flown forth from his ruined château so as not to die of starvation in it, should have dared to stick his long bill into me! I have encountered, and conquered, the best swordsmen in France, and never returned from the field before with so much as a scratch, or without leaving my adversary stretched lifeless on the ground, or wounded and bleeding in the arms of his friends.” “But you must remember that the most favoured and the bravest of mortals have their unlucky days, Vallombreuse,” answered the chevalier sententiously, “and Dame Fortune does not _always_ smile, even upon her prime favourites. Until now you have never had to complain of her frowns, for you have been her pampered darling all your life long.” “Isn’t it too disgraceful,” continued Vallombreuse, growing more and more heated, “that this ridiculous buffoon—this grotesque country clown—who takes such abominable drubbings on the stage, and has never in his life known what it was to associate with gentlemen, should have managed to get the best of the Duke of Vallombreuse, hitherto by common accord pronounced invincible? He must be a professional prize-fighter, disguised as a strolling mountebank.” “There can be no doubt about his real rank,” said Vidalinc, “for the Marquis de Bruyères guarantees it; but I must confess that his unequalled performance to-day filled me with astonishment; it was simply marvellous. Neither Girolamo nor Paraguante, those two world-renowned swordsmen, could have surpassed it. I watched him closely, and I tell you that even they could not have withstood him. It took all your remarkable skill—which has been so greatly enhanced by the Neapolitan’s instructions—to avoid being mortally wounded; why your defeat was a victory in my eyes, in that it was not a more overwhelming one.” “I don’t know how I am to wait for this wound to heal,” the duke said, after a short pause, “I am so impatient to provoke him again, and have the opportunity to revenge myself.” “That would be a very hazardous proceeding, and one that I should strongly advise you not to attempt,” Vidalinc replied in an earnest tone. “Your sword-arm will scarcely be as strong as before for a long time I fear, and that would seriously diminish your chances of success. This Baron de Sigognac is a very formidable antagonist, and will be still more so, for you, now that he knows your tactics; and besides, the confidence in himself which his first victory naturally gives him would be another thing in his favour. Honour is satisfied, and the encounter was a serious one for you. Let the matter rest here, I beseech you!”