Up to the time this occurred I had been attached to de Rone's staff, with ten or twelve other young gentlemen whose pedigrees were as long as their swords; but after the accident to de Gonnor--my foot slipped and I thrust a half inch too low--I was sent with the stormers to Laon, and then banished to the outposts, thinking myself lucky to escape with that. At any rate, the outpost was under my command. Imagine, therefore, my disgust when I found that de Gomeron had been detached to examine into and report upon my charge. He did this moreover in so offensive a manner, hectoring here and hectoring there, that I could barely restrain myself from parading him on the stretch of turf behind the thorn hedge that fenced in the enclosure to the hovel. The very sight of that turf used to tempt me. It was so soft and springy, so level and true, with no cross shadows of tree trunks or mottled reflections of foliage to spoil a thrust in tierce. Our feelings towards each other being as they were, it would seem odd that we should have diced and drunk together; but the situation was one of armed peace; and, besides, time had to be killed, as for the past week M. de Rethelois, formerly as lively as a cricket, had kept himself close as a nun of Port Royal behind the walls of La Fere, and affairs were ineffably dull. I was certain, however, that we should soon break into open quarrel, and on this night, whether it was de Gomeron's manner of losing or whether it was the d'Arbois I cannot tell, but I felt a mad anger against the man as he sat staring at me, and it was all I could do to restrain myself from flinging the lees of the wine in my glass in his face and abiding the result. I held myself in with an effort, drumming with my fingers on the table the while, and at last he spoke in an abrupt and jarring voice: 'What says the score?' I looked at the once blank card on which I had jotted down the points and passed it to him with the answer: 'One hundred and twenty livres of Paris, M. Gomeron.' '_De_ Gomeron, if you please, M. d'Auriac. Here is your money, see it is not Tournois,' and he slid a rouleau across the table towards me. I made no effort to take it; but, looking at the man with a sneer, gave answer: 'I was not aware that they used the _de_ in the Camargue, monsieur.' 'Young fool!' I heard him mutter between his teeth, and then aloud, 'Your education needs extension, Chevalier.' 'There is space enough without.' I answered hotly, laying my hand on my sword, 'and no time like the present; the moon is at her full and stands perfectly.' We sprang to our feet at these words and stood facing each other. All thought of de Rone had flown from my mind, my one desire was to be face to face with the man on that patch of turf. _Peste!_ I had much to learn in those days!