"I assure you my dress is quite Parisian, my dear friend. You see my brother and I being exactly the same height, he for a joke sent me a regular outfit, which I only wear on grand occasions, to receive the prefect, for instance, or when the commandant makes his departmental inspection; or, better still, when I receive a guest like yourself, and when that pleasure is combined with such important business as we are about to accomplish to-day." There was in this young man's manner of speaking a polished irony, and good-nature withal, which at once set people at their ease, and never passed the bounds of perfect politeness. I simply bowed in reply, while he carefully inducted his hands into a pair of kid gloves of Paris manufacture. As now attired, he looked a thorough Parisian. All this time I was dressing rapidly. A quarter to ten struck. "Come along," said Lucien, "if you wish to see the play. I think it is time we took our seats, unless, indeed, you would rather have breakfast first, which appears to me only reasonable." "Thank you, I seldom eat before eleven or twelve, so I am ready to face both operations." "Come along, then." I took up my hat and followed him upstairs. CHAPTER XI. FROM the top of the steps by which one reached the door of the chateau usually inhabited by Madame de Franchi and her son, one could look over the square. This square, so silent the night before, was now full of people, but curiously enough there was not a man to be seen, the crowd was composed of women and children under twelve. On the lowest step of the church door we could perceive a man girdled with a tri-coloured sash. This was the mayor. Under the portico, another man clothed in black was seated at a table. This was the notary, and the written paper under his hand was the act of reconciliation. I took my place beside the table with the sponsors of the Orlandi. On the other sida were the sponsors of the Colona faction. Lucien stood behind the notary so as to show that he acted for both. In the choir of the church one could perceive the priests ready to solemnize the mass. The clock struck ten. At that moment a shiver pervaded the crowd and all eyes were turned towards the end of the street, if one could so call the unequal interval between the houses. Immediately on the mountain side appeared the Orlandi, and in the direction of the river was the Colona, each followed by his partisans, but as had been arranged neither party carried arms. The two chiefs presented a very vivid contrast. Orlandi, as I said, was tall, brown, agile and thin. Colona, on the other hand, was short, stoutish, and vigorous; he had red hair and beard, both of which wore short and curly. Both men carried olive branches, the symbol of peace, which was the idea of the worthy mayor. But besides this olive branch, the Colona held a white fowl by the feet; this bird was destined to replace that which had given rise to the quarrel, and the fowl was alive.