As we had snarled and snapped a little here and there in some of our gambols after the various objects which had passed before us, this young man suggested the possibility of his being _de trop_ in the coterie. "Are you not gênés," said he, "by my being here to listen to all that you and yours may be disposed to say of us and ours?... Shall I have the amiability to depart?" A general and decided negative was put upon this proposition; but one of the party moved an amendment. "Let us," said he, "agree to say everything respecting France and the French with as much unreserve as if you were on the top of Notre Dame; and do you, who have been for three months in England, treat us exactly in the same manner; and see what we shall make of each other. We are all much too languid to suffer our patriotism to mount up to 'spirit-boil,' and so there is no danger whatever that we should quarrel." "I would accept the partie instantly," said the Frenchman, "were it not so unequal. But six to one! ... is not this too hard?" "No! ... not the least in the world, if we take it in the quizzing vein," replied the other; "for it is well known that a Frenchman can out-quiz six Englishmen at any time." "Eh bien!" ... said the complaisant Parisian with a sigh, "I will do my best. Begin, ladies, if you please." "No! no! no!" exclaimed several female voices in a breath; "we will have nothing to do with it; fight it out between yourselves: we will be the judges, and award the honours of the field to him who hits the hardest." "This is worse and worse," cried our laughing enemy: "if this be the arrangement of the combat, the judgment, à coup sûr, will be given against me. How can you expect such blind confidence from me?" We protested against this attack upon our justice, promised to be as impartial as Jove, and desired the champions to enter the lists. "So then," said the Englishman, "I am to enact the part of St. George ... and God defend the right!" "And I, that of St. Denis," replied the Frenchman, his right hand upon his breast and his left gracefully sawing the air. "Mon bras ... non ... 'Ma _langue_ à ma patrie, Mon coeur à mon amie, Mourir gaiement pour la gloire et l'amour, C'est la devise d'un vaillant troubadour.'