He gave me a list of his cock’s victories, in which he had killed the other bird; this had happened more than thirty times. He then shewed me the steel spurs, at the sight of which the cock began to ruffle and crow. I could not help laughing to see such a martial spirit in so small an animal. He seemed possessed by the demon of strife, and lifted now one foot and now the other, as if to beg that his arms might be put on. Pembroke then exhibited the helmet, also of steel. “But with such arms,” said I, “he is sure of conquest.” “No; for when he is armed cap-a-pie he will not fight with a defenceless cock.” “I can’t believe it, my lord.” “It’s a well-known fact. Here, read this.” He then gave me a piece of paper with this remarkable biped’s pedigree. He could prove his thirty-two quarters more easily than a good many noblemen, on the father’s side, be it understood, for if he could have proved pure blood on the mother’s side as well, Lord Pembroke would have decorated him with the Order of the Golden Fleece at least. “The bird cost me a hundred guineas,” said he, “but I would not sell him for a thousand.” “Has he any offspring?” “He tries his best, but there are difficulties.” I do not remember whether Lord Pembroke explained what these difficulties were. Certainly the English offer more peculiarities to the attentive observer than any other nation. At last a carriage containing a lady and two gentlemen drove up to the door. One of the gentlemen was the rascally Castelbajac and the other was introduced as Count Schwerin, nephew of the famous marshal of that name who fell on what is commonly called the field of glory. General Bekw---- an Englishman who was in the service of the King of Prussia, and was one of Pembroke’s guests, received Schwerin politely, saying that he had seen his uncle die; at this the modest nephew drew the Order of the Black Eagle from his breast, and shewed it to us all covered with blood. “My uncle wore it on the day of his death, and the King of Prussia allowed me to keep it as a noble memorial of my kinsman.” “Yes,” said an Englishman who was present, “but the coat-pocket is not the place for a thing like that.” Schwerin made as if he did not understand, and this enabled me to take his measure. Lord Pembroke took possession of the lady, whom I did not think worthy of being compared to Pauline. She was paler and shorter, and utterly deficient in Pauline’s noble air; besides, when she smiled it spoiled her face, and this is a defect in a woman, to whom laughter should always be becoming. Lord Pembroke introduced us all to each other, and when he came to me Castelbajac said he was delighted to see me again, although he might easily have pretended not to know me under my name of Seingalt.