"For heaven's sake, messieurs," said Ambroisine, in her turn, "do not torment this poor traveller like this! What pleasure can you find in frightening a woman? Let these people go their way. They are not Parisians--anyone can see that! They do not know that you are only threatening them in joke." "In joke!" repeated young La Valteline, with a frown. "But you are not aware, _belle baigneuse_, that that peasant's staff has soiled my cloak!--Oh! I must chastise him for that! These knaves must be taught the respect that they owe us." "And why do you jeer at them and attack them, if you wish them to respect you?" "Enough, fair Ambroisine! sermons are all right for preachers, but they amount to nothing in a pretty girl's mouth!" "Come, Jarnonville! forward! have at him! have at him! let us trounce the peasant!" "Not without my helping to defend him!" ejaculated Master Hugonnet, running to take his stand beside the travellers, still carrying his basin and shaving brush. "And I will not allow that girl to be insulted, without doing what I can to help her!" cried Ambroisine, following her father and placing herself in front of Miretta. "That is right! good! good for _la baigneuse_!" cried all the women, who had been drawn to the scene by the noise of the quarrel. "You are on the girl's side, and we too will defend her!" "All these ne'er-do-wells are fit for nothing but to insult women!" "Let us pick up stones and throw them at the villains!" "No, no! by Notre-Dame!" cried Hugonnet. "No stones, I entreat you! You will break my windows and my sign, and I shall have to pay for all the damage! We shall be able to settle this business without you!" The young gentlemen were embarrassed, for, although eager to fight and having little fear of their adversaries, they were afraid that in the scrimmage they might injure the pretty traveller and Ambroisine. The latter, divining what held them back, took delight in defying all those fine cavaliers, who were in the habit of making love to her, and several of whom called out to her: "Come away from there, _belle baigneuse_; that is no place for you!" "You are in our way. Besides, you ought not to take sides against your customers!" "I don't care a fig for customers! Let these travellers go their way, and I will agree to shave all of you." This proposition seemed to make an impression on several of the young men; but the Sire de Jarnonville, irritated by all this discussion, drew his sword and strode toward the horse's head. With a few passes he soon sent the famous Roland flying through the air. Passedix, disarmed, called loudly for another weapon. The Black Chevalier thereupon turned his attention to the dogwood staff, but he had not so simple a task as with the Gascon's sword.