"It's I, my dear Albert," said Tobie, speaking very loudly; "if you want to sleep some more, don't wake up; I will go away." Albert woke, rubbed his eyes, recognized Tobie, and murmured sleepily: "What! is it you, Tobie? where in the devil have you come from?" "From home, of course." "And why didn't you come last evening to Place des Italiens, where somebody was waiting for you?" "Oho! how do you know that?" "Parbleu! because it was Mouillot, Balivan, Célestin, and I who made the appointment with you through Bastringuette." "Really?" "We meant to play a practical joke on you, and we got ourselves arrested and put in the guardhouse!" "Ha! ha! charming! delicious!" The little man twisted himself about in an easy-chair, and laughed till he cried. "But tell me why you have come to see me so early in the day? have you come to redeem your fetich? Perhaps you don't know Varinet's address?" "I didn't come for that, my friend. I have another reason; I have a favor to ask of you." "You want to borrow five hundred francs?" "That isn't what I came for, but if you are willing to lend it to me, it would be very welcome just at this time." "Well, why did you come and disturb my sleep?" "In the first place, my friend, it's late, and I wouldn't have waked you if your servant hadn't told me that you had something on hand this morning." "Great heaven!" cried Albert, hastily throwing off the bedclothes; "you remind me! what time is it, pray?" "About a quarter past nine." "I haven't a minute to lose, for I have a duel this morning at ten! Gad! I must make haste." "What's that? you are going to fight a duel?" said Tobie, involuntarily recoiling from his friend, and concluding that Albert was aware of Madame Plays's hopes; "why, no, Albert; no, you mustn't fight; it isn't worthwhile--a burlesque duel is all that's necessary." "What in the devil are you talking about? do you mean to say that you know the cause of my duel with Count Dahlborne?" "Count Dahlborne? oho! you're going to fight with him, are you?" "To be sure." Tobie breathed more freely. "No, I know nothing about that," he replied, running his hand through his hair; "I got it mixed up with something else. Imagine, if you please, that Madame Plays, whom I met last night, absolutely insists on my fighting with you." "Oh! as to her, it's a different matter. Poor woman! What answer did you make?" "I promised to kill you for her." "Very good; listen--perhaps it can be arranged to suit you: if the count kills me, you must tell Madame Plays that you did it." "Oh! the idea! Poor Albert! I should be so distressed! Are you really going to fight?" "Most certainly I am. By the way, as you are on the spot, you must be my second; for I shall not have time to send for anybody else." "Your second!" "You don't mean to refuse, I trust?" "You see, my dear fellow, if you should be wounded, I should be ill, I know."