"Nine. And what part of Germany do you come from?" "I was last staying at the Castle of Lichtenberg." "Aha!" said the gentleman on the balustrade. "And who, may I ask, did we entertain at our Castle of Lichtenberg?" "King William of Prussia," I replied out of my childish vanity, "the Count Feliciani, the great banker and----" "Mr. What's-your-name," said my tormentor, "you are a liar. The Count Feliciani, the great banker as you call him, is in prison----" "How! What?" I cried. "Oh," said he, with the air of an old Boulevardier, "it is all over Paris. Caught embezzling State funds; arrested at the railway station. A nice acquaintance, truly, to boast of!" "Oh, Eloise!" I cried, my whole heart going out to the unhappy family; for, though I did not know what embezzling funds meant, prison was plain enough to my understanding. "Oh, Eloise!" mimicked the other, throwing his cigarette-end away, slipping down from the balustrade, and adjusting his waistcoat preparatory to returning to the house. "Oh, Eloise! Come on, cochon. I have an appointment with M. le Duc de Morny." "Allons!" And again he hit me with the cane, this time over the right shoulder. I struck him first in the wind, a foul blow, which I have never yet regretted; and, as he doubled up, I struck him again, by good fortune, just at the root of the nose. The effect was magical, and I stood in consternation looking at my handiwork, for instantly his two eyes became black and his nose streamed gore. He lay for a moment where he had fallen; then he scrambled on all fours, got on his feet, and running, streaming blood, and bellowing at the same time, without his dandy cane, without his cigarette-box, which he had left on the balustrade, he made for the house, this enfant très propre, and of the highest intelligence; a nice figure, indeed, for presentation to the Duc de Morny! It was a veritable débâcle. He knew how to run, that child of the haute noblesse; and, when I arrived in the ante-room, he was already roaring his tale out into the Countess Wagner de Pons' brocaded skirts, for he was clinging to her like a child of five, whilst the fat Deputies, the Jew bankers, and other illuminati stood round in a circle, excited as schoolboys. A nice scene, truly, to take place in a Minister of State's salon. "He struck me in the stomach, he struck me on the head, he kicked me!" roared the little Comte de Coigny. "Keep him away! Keep him away! Here he is! Here he is!" The Countess de Pons screamed. A row of long-drawn faces turned on me, and the bankers and Deputies, the priests, and the Southern delegates made a hedge to protect the stricken one, and cooshed at me as if I were a cat. Cries of "Ah! polisson! Mauvais enfant! Regardez! Regardez!" filled the room, till the hubbub suddenly ceased at a stern voice that said "Patrick!"