But Paul was too quick for him; he ran to the table, reached it first, and with the back of his hand knocked the glass to the floor, where it broke in a thousand pieces, and the brandy ran in all directions. The young messenger's act was followed by a growl of dissatisfaction and menace. Some of the bystanders seemed to be dazed by the bare idea that a man could make up his mind to waste such an enormous quantity of the precious liquid; and Monsieur Laboussole, heedless of the danger of staining his trousers, instantly dropped on all fours, and, putting his tongue to the boards, tried to lap up a part of it. But Sans-Cravate, beside himself with rage and crazy with drink, rushed at Paul and seized him around the waist, saying in a threatening tone: "That's an insult! You meant to keep me from winning my bet, but you've got to give me satisfaction! We are going to fight, do you hear? Look out for yourself, for I shall strike hard!" "Yes, yes!" shouted Jean Ficelle; "he insulted Sans-Cravate, he insulted Cagnoux, he insulted all of us, by breaking that glass. He must have a licking! we must give him a lesson! that will teach him to behave better in a wine shop." And Monsieur Laboussole, still lapping the brandy on the floor, added in a voice half stifled by his attitude: "We must beat him; or else make him pay for twice the quantity of brandy for the company." Thereupon Bastringuette stepped into the midst of the men who surrounded the young messenger, and, planting herself in front of him, cried: "Is the whole lot of you going to take sides against him? That's brave of you--a dozen against one! I tell you not to lay a finger on him, or I'll scratch all your eyes out!" But Sans-Cravate pushed the girl aside with a turn of his wrist. "He ain't going to fight any twelve men, but just me alone," he said.--"Come on, are you ready?" "No," replied Paul, who had remained perfectly calm amid all the uproar, "no, I won't fight with you." "Then you're a coward!" "I am not a coward. Let any other man come forward, and I'll agree to fight with him; but not with you, Sans-Cravate, for you're out of your head now, and to-morrow you'll be sorry that you struck your friend." "Ah! he's crawling! he's crawling!" cried Jean Ficelle. "He wants to make us think Sans-Cravate has drunk too much." "I am the one you made a fool of by breaking that glass, and you've got to fight with me!" repeated Sans-Cravate. "_Crédié!_ come on, and have done with it, or I'll knock you down!" The powerful messenger shook his fist at Paul, who remained unmoved and seemed to have determined not to avoid the blow; while all the men who stood about drew back to leave more room for the combatants, upon whom every eye was fixed.