"Where did I think I was going? that's a funny question! Why, I thought that I could not have made a mistake; I knew that I was going to my neighbor's room." "No, monsieur, when you came in here, you evidently thought that you were going into a stable, for you didn't bow and you kept your hat on your head." "Oh! that is possible, monsieur, and----" "When anyone comes into my room, monsieur, I propose, I demand that he shall take off his hat. Come! take yours off at once!" "What! take my hat off? But suppose I----" "Suppose you don't choose to? Well, in that case I will just take it off myself, and it won't take long!" Roncherolle grasped his cane, raised it quickly, and aimed at his fashionable neighbor's head; but he, seeing the gesture, very quickly snatched off his hat, while a shudder of ill augury ran through his frame. "Now I am going to answer your nonsense, for you haven't said anything else since you came in. I didn't send word to you that you mustn't teach your parrot. In the first place, I am too well-bred, monsieur, I know too much, to employ such terms to a man whom I suppose to be well-bred also; I sent to you a request to suspend your lessons while I am suffering from the gout, because that terrible disease often forces me to pass whole nights without sleep; so that it is very natural that I should wish to enjoy a little repose during the day; and instead of acceding to my request, which a courteous man would have done, monsieur enters my room as if it were a public square, he calls me his 'old man,' and a marmotte, and threatens me with his wrath if I venture to complain again!--Do you know, monsieur, that it is doubly cowardly to insult an old man who is ill and cannot defend himself?" Little Saint-Arthur, who felt very ill at ease, and had lost all his swagger, replied in a faltering voice: "But, monsieur, I don't know whether--I don't understand--I----" "Well, monsieur, I will tell you something, and that is that you were not such a coward as you thought. That surprises you, doesn't it? But this is how it is: in the first place, I am not so old as I look; misfortune and disease age a man very rapidly, monsieur; and secondly, although caught by my one leg, I am in a condition to demand satisfaction for an insult, and you are going to have a proof of it." Thereupon, rolling his chair to his desk, Roncherolle opened it and took out a pair of pistols, which he handed to his neighbor, saying: "Look you, with these, we will sit, each at one end of the room, and blow each other's brains out as nicely as possible. Come, monsieur, take one; they are loaded; I am a far-sighted man, you see!" Saint-Arthur had turned as pale as a turnip; he leaned against a piece of furniture to hold himself up, and glanced toward the door. But Roncherolle continued, raising his voice: