"Didn't you have it mended?" "It wasn't mendable, monsieur." "Nonsense! why, they even mend porcelain! This is cherry, I see; let me look at it." Cherami put out his hand for the cane, but Monsieur Courbichon hastily put it behind his back. "No, no," he cried; "I have no desire that you should break this one too; one was quite enough." "Oh! mon Dieu! my excellent and worthy friend, who said anything about breaking your cane? There is nobody throwing skittles at your legs at this moment, and I fancy that this switch is worth quite as much as your cherry stick." "Did this one come from China, too?" "No, my boy. Do not revive my sorrow! My Chinese switch will never be replaced; but enough about canes. I have a very great favor to ask of you, my dear Monsieur Courbichon, one of those favors which a man of honor never refuses to grant." "I have no money with me at this moment, monsieur; and it would be impossible for me----" "Who the devil said anything about money? Mordieu! do I look like a man who borrows money?" Monsieur Courbichon examined Cherami, who had made himself as fine as possible for his visit to Monsieur de la Beriniere; and he took off his hat, murmuring: "I beg your pardon; indeed, I had not noticed---- But what is the favor you wish to ask me, monsieur?" "A nothing, a mere bagatelle--to act as my second in a duel, to-morrow." "A duel! it's about a duel! and you dare to propose to me to take part in it! What have I done to you, monsieur, that you should suggest such a thing to me?" "I tell you, Monsieur Courbichon, it's a mere matter of form; the seconds don't fight." "I, be present at a duel! Understand that I never fought a duel, monsieur! I would rather die than fight!" "You are like Gribouille, then, who jumped into the water for fear of the rain." "It's an outrage, your proposition to me! I will request you, monsieur, not to speak to me hereafter. I do not consort with men who fight duels, not I! Don't detain me, or I shall call for help." The little bald man almost ran away. Cherami shrugged his shoulders, saying to himself: "Old guinea-hen! I might have guessed that the simple word _duel_ would frighten him! He won't be my second. Sapristi! I haven't my cue!" Cherami was almost at the end of Boulevard Beaumarchais, when he heard a voice exclaim: "Yes, yes, it's him; there he is--the man who keeps us waiting for dinner, and never comes! God bless my soul! it takes you a long time to smoke your cigar." At the sound of those familiar accents, Beau Arthur turned, and saw Madame Capucine, attended as always by her two brats; the elder still wearing his Henri IV hat, with the feathers falling over his eyes; the younger eating gingerbread, and finding a way to stuff his fingers into his nose at the same time. "Ah! upon my word, it's the lovely Madame Capucine," said Cherami, joining the group. The stout woman, glancing at her debtor's fashionable attire, smiled amiably, as she rejoined: