“After all, to what does this affair amount? Nothing. A young gentleman, jesting with his friends, boasts of possessing a woman to whom he has never spoken,--at least so we are assured; the real proprietor of the lady overhears this vaunt, and tells the young boaster that he has spoken falsely: that seems rather rough. But, between ourselves, what else could he have done? He could not very well invite the young gentleman to dinner. Well, then, let M. de la Soulaye, who, I am sure, is a man of courage, acknowledge that he was wrong, and let the affair drop. Parbleu! We do not seek the life of the offender.” “You forget,” said M. de Buffières, “that it is the man who gave the insult, and not the one who was insulted, who ought to make the apology.” “There is another way,” resumed the painter, “of terminating this absurd difficulty. Let M. de la Soulaye prove that he spoke the truth when he referred to the lady. We will prevent our friend from fighting for a woman who is not worth the trouble.” “M. de la Soulaye,” replied the commandant, “will prove all that is required, after he has obtained reparation for the outrage perpetrated upon him.” “Precisely so,” added M. de Buffières. “If,” continued Paul, “by an unfortunate chance, M. de la Soulaye should kill M. Martin, or M. Martin should kill M. de la Soulaye, would that prove that the one did wrong, or that the other lied? Or would the reputation of Adéonne be in the least benefited?” “Probably not,” said M. de Buffières, dryly. Paul Buck, seeing that his efforts to effect a reconciliation would be fruitless, withdrew to a corner, and seemed absorbed in thought. At length, M. de Vic arose and said,-- “Well, is it understood? To-morrow, at seven o’clock, at the Pecq, Avenue de la Grotte; each to bring swords.” CHAPTER XXXVI. Paul and Clamens conducted Eusebe to a renowned _maître d’armes_, named Grisier, or Gate-chair. “Professor,” said Clamens, “I have the honor to introduce to you one of my best friends, M. Eusebe Martin, who is to fight to-morrow, and who does not know how to hold a sword. I have persuaded him that you will be kind enough to give him the benefit of your valuable counsel.” “I can give him only one piece of advice,” replied the professor; “and that is, not to kill himself. I tender him that, with all my heart: it is all I can do for him.” “How? Do you mean to say that you cannot teach him how to make some passes with the weapon?” “Fencing is not to be learned in an hour.” “Doubtless; but are there not some special mysteries of the art in which you can instruct him?” “All the movements are mysteries to one who does not know how to parry them.” “But can you not at least show my friend the manner of putting himself on guard? He is to fight with a man of the world, and he ought to be able to show that he knows as well how to kill as to live.” “That is easy enough,” said the professor. “I am at your disposal.”