"Ah! _fouchtra!_ you're a smart one! how you run on!" "Now it's all over, ain't we going to have a glass of wine at the nearest wine-shop, to refresh us?" "My boys, here's a hundred sous for each of you. Go and refresh yourselves all you choose; I am going to take the cab and go home. Do you prefer to ride back?" "No, no! Riding makes us sick; eh, Piedmontese?" "Yes, yes, I prefer to walk." "But don't forget, my boys, to bring that coat and gray hat back to Madame Louchard." "Don't you be afraid; we're just going to have a little fun with our hundred sous." "Have all the fun you can, my boys. Good-day!" "Say, Monsieur Cherami, you're satisfied with us, ain't you? We did what you wanted us to." "Yes, my friends, I am very well satisfied.--But God preserve me from ever having you as seconds again!" added Cherami, as he drove away. LV CHERAMI CHANGES HIS TACTICS On the day after the duel, Cherami, concealing under his coat the sword which had been loaned to him the day before, betook himself to the count's abode and asked the concierge how his master was. The concierge replied, with a profound sigh: "Would you believe, monsieur, that, in spite of his years--for although monsieur le comte dresses like a young man, it's easy to see that he isn't one; his valet tells me he's past sixty--well, in spite of his years, he fought a duel yesterday." "A man fights a duel when the occasion arises; there's no prescribed term for that." "No, monsieur; no, a man doesn't fight--and with swords, above all--when his wrist is no longer firm; and it seems that Monsieur de la Beriniere's opponent was a great, tall rascal--a professional--one of those fellows who pass their time fighting. A fine profession!" Cherami pushed the sword still farther under his coat, stared at the concierge as if he would swallow him, and said in a sharp tone: "Your reflections tire me; I am going up to the count's apartments." "But, monsieur, you can't go up; monsieur le comte is very badly wounded, so it seems. He is forbidden to read or talk." "I don't mean to speak to him, but to his valet, who isn't so much of an ass as you, I trust." And Cherami rapidly ascended the stairs, opened the door of the reception-room by turning the knob, and found there the valet, who knew him. He handed him the sword, saying: "Here, my friend, is a sword which your master loaned to the person with whom he fought yesterday, and which that person requested me to return to him, and at the same time to inquire as to his condition. Is the count's wound dangerous?" "No, monsieur. The surgeon said that it wasn't mortal, and that monsieur would recover." "Ah! so much the better! I am very glad to hear that." "But it may take a long time; he'll have to be very careful. Monsieur has lost a great deal of blood; he is very weak, and, between ourselves, he's no longer young." "Between ourselves, and between all the rest of the world, too."